


Make It Work

by misterdellis



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: A little bit of violence, Blood, Character Death, Dragons, Dream Sex, Drunk Kissing, F/F, M/M, Masturbation, Roller Coasters, Vomit, Yeah there's a lot of plot in some chapters, bill likes dipper, body parts, but you gotta have it, deer death, dipper likes bill, everyone is fucking bipolar, eye gouging whoops, hardcore infatuation, mentioned cheating, monster oc, more tags later on, neither know it for a while, spinny rides, super mixed up emotions, there's sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-10-04
Packaged: 2018-04-09 18:05:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 18
Words: 56,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4359005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misterdellis/pseuds/misterdellis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dipper Pines vaguely remembered when he was twelve, when he fought demons and stopped the apocalypse, when he chased monsters and spent the summer in Gravity Falls. Oh, how simple his life used to be, how <i>easy</i> everything was. He only had demons and puberty to worry about. <br/>Now, Dipper lives off of takeout and shares his home with his unbearably-attractive life-long enemy. No longer must he deal with the terrible demon Bill Cipher, no; now he has to deal with questioning his own sexuality (is there a demonsexual option?), taxes, hormones, groceries, loneliness, and an insane 'King of Chaos' that visits his mind frequently. (And he thought Bill was crazy.) <br/>Well, all Dipper can do now is make it work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stressed

“Bill, I swear.”  
The glowing yellow triangle hovered above Dipper, its eye scrunched up in some form of a smile. “Swear what?” it asked. “I don’t understand.”  
“Don’t be a smartass, Bill. Get out of my head!” Dipper retorted icily. The world around them moved sluggishly and was mostly gray, which meant they were in the floating shape’s personal realm; the Mindscape. Dipper was seated on the balcony he’d built just outside of what used to be his and Mabel’s bedroom, currently asleep with a blank stack of lined papers still in his lap from when he was conscious.  
“Maybe I’m not in your head. Maybe you’re in my head.” Bill Cipher folded its skinny black arms behind the area Dipper thought of as its head. Before Dipper could hiss anything back in response, Bill continued: “But that’s not the point, kid. I’ve been a real jerk these past few years, and--”  
“Yeah, I know.” Dipper stood, the pile of inkless sheets tumbling down to the gray dirt below. “I don’t want to make any deals with you. I don’t want to talk to you. Get me out of here, Bill. I’m busy.”  
“You’ve been denying sleep for the past four days trying to write, and you haven’t gotten anything done, Pine Tree. I think you need this nap.”  
Dipper’s face screwed up in a snarl. He was absolutely done with this stupid demon invading his life. “Leave me alone, Bill,” he growled through gritted teeth. He was on the verge of snapping. The Mystery Shack barely ever had customers, he was running low on money for bills and food, he had no inspiration when it came to writing, and Mabel was still avoiding him after his most recent fuck-up.  
“Fine, kid, fine.” It lifted its skeletal arms, fingers splayed in the air defenselessly. “I’ll come back later, when you’re not bein’ such a grouch. Ha ha! Your face in two seconds is priceless.”  
Dipper jerked into colorful reality with a yelp, sweat glistening on his forehead.. His amber eyes darted around wildly for any signs of a glowing yellow figure, and when he found nothing, he sighed and dropped onto his back.  
Ever since his incident with Mabel and Pacifica a few weeks ago, Bill’s visits had become frequent.  
There had been almost no appearances of the dream demon since he and Mabel were fourteen, but now, eight years after they’d first encountered it, it’d fully returned. While the twins had aged, Bill had stayed its same dickish self. Almost every night, when Dipper managed to get a few hours of sleep, Bill would slither into his brain and try to talk to him.  
And Dipper would ignore it or spit insults at it until it left him for the night.  
Dipper exhaled again, and slowly got up. The blank papers actually fell from his lap this time, but the breeze carried them away from the ground and scattered them in the real world. He groaned and went inside, down two flights of stairs, and out again through the Shack’s back door. Gathering the mess of worthless parchment, Dipper thought of calling Mabel and asking her to come back with him.  
He completely understood why she was mad, but he hadn’t been thinking when it happened. If he explained why it occured, maybe she’d stay the rest of the summer with him, like they’d originally planned. Nodding to himself and making a mental note to go visit her at Candy’s apartment after he’d put his paper back in the attic, Dipper headed back indoors. Bill wasn't his main priority. Mabel was, and he wasn't going to think about the demon when he had a sister to find.  
Dipper hurried to put his stuff away and tidy up the Shack before rushing over to the main entrance. He reached for the doorknob- but the door opened before he got to it.  
“Dipper? Oh, jeez, sorry!” Mabel wiggled in through the gap she made between the frame and the open door itself to crouch beside her brother. Dipper kept his hand clasped over his nose as he bent over; the door had hit him in the face when Mabel pushed it against him, trying to come in.  
“It’s fine, Mabel,” he managed. Dipper withdrew his hand and stared at the blood tinting his palm. She frowned at him and shook her head, taking him by the wrist and pulling him onto his feet.  
“Let’s get you an ice pack.” Mabel led him to the kitchen and backed him up with violent hand-waving movements until Dipper got the message and sat on the counter. Then she dug around in the icebox for a while until she found one of their reusable animal-shaped cold packs. The one she held resembled a lion’s head.  
“What are you doing here?” Dipper asked her as she retrieved another animal-shaped object, this one a dog, and pressed one to either side of his face.  
“I… wanted to check on you,” she admitted slowly, replacing her icepack-holding hands with his as she turned away to sort through the cabinets. “I’m not angry anymore, bro-bro.” It was like she could read his mind and hear his questions before he asked them. Dipper sighed in relief.  
“Are you staying, then?” She nodded, and he smiled, his shoulders sagging. Maybe he could finally rest without having to worry about her.  
Rest.  
Dipper blinked. “M-Mabel,” he stuttered. He was back to thinking about Bill again; what if the demon decided to come after Mabel, since Dipper had rejected it so many times? What if it used her as a way to get to Dipper?  
“Yeah, bro-bro?” She turned around, a box of fruit snacks in one hand, the other buried inside of it and flicking around, searching for a pack that wasn’t put back empty. She looked so… happy, like she always looked.  
“It’s nothing. Sorry.” He couldn’t ruin her mood. Not when she came back to the Mystery Shack to spend what vacation time she had left with him. Mabel was a part-time fashion designer now, and she went to college in California; the only time he ever got to see her was over the summer, when she was allowed to take a break from all her work and come to Gravity Falls. Dipper couldn’t bring himself to bring her down with him and make her worry about him.  
Mabel gave him a doubtful look, but shrugged her shoulders and tossed the empty fruit snack wrappers into the trash can. Then she put the box in the recycling bin. “What time is it?” she asked, moving from the cabinets to the pantry. “It’s almost seven,” Dipper answered, relieved that she didn’t press him for the truth. He had sounded pretty guilty, even to himself.  
Mabel closed the pantry door and adjusted her sweater. The one she wore had a small heart where hers would be, hidden behind her actual ribcage inside of her. The rest of the fabric was plain black, but her rainbow leggings made up for the color. She grinned at him, and he thought of how much nicer she’d turned out looking compared to him; her braces were gone, her eyes were brighter and warmer than his, her hair was well-maintained and shiny, and she went to the gym often. She exercised outside next to Dipper when he chopped firewood over the summer because there was no gym in Gravity Falls.  
Dipper looked homeless standing in her shadow.  
“Let’s go to Greasy’s,” she said. Dipper sighed and turned his head away. “Mabel, I really don’t have the money--” “I can pay. I brought some cash from California. C’mon, bro-bro.” Mabel jogged out of the kitchen and out the front door before Dipper could object.  
_That’s right,_ he recalled. _She’s successful. Another difference between us._  
Dipper followed his sister to her deep purplish-blue Honda Civic and dropped into the passenger seat. Mabel was already buckled in, her fingers wrapped around the car’s wheel.  
“Why don’t we ever take my car?” Dipper glanced back at his muddy black Toyota Tacoma as they began driving away.  
“It’s dirty,” Mabel replied with a snort. “Obviously.”  
They drove to Greasy’s with the radio playing loudly. Nikki Minaj and some other artists that weren’t as famous as they used to be played, and the twins sang along. Dipper grinned as they both shouted what lyrics they knew. It was as if they’d never fought to begin with.  
At the diner, they were greeted by a waitress they didn’t know the name of; she wasn’t Lazy Susan. Susan had died last autumn, when she somehow fell into a woodchipper.  
Mabel chose their booth, and they sat opposite of each other. Dipper adjusted his flannel button-up and laughed when Mabel muttered something about the couple being crawled all over by their six kids on the other side of the restaurant. The nameless waitress came and took their orders before departing again, and they sat in blissful silence for a few minutes until Mabel broke the peace.  
“I love this place,” she sighed. “Wish I could live here forever. Sometimes I wish I’d stayed in Oregon.”  
Dipper smiled sadly. “You followed your dreams, and I followed mine. Don’t regret your decision, Mabel. I’m super proud of you.” His sister’s grin widened, and she grabbed his hand across the table. They gripped each other tightly and carried on with meaningless small talk until Unnamed returned with Mabel’s M &M-filled waffles and Dipper’s plain cheeseburger.  
Mabel’s phone chimed while they were eating. She rolled her eyes and unlocked its screen, reading what she was sent. Dipper stopped talking about that one time a lady claimed a statue in the Shack was her husband to ask, “What is it?”  
Mabel sighed softly. “Pacifica’s stopping by. I told her where we are.”  
And then Dipper knew he was fucked.  
The limo stopped by in at least ten seconds, and Pacifica strolled out onto the pavement. She crossed the parking lot and walked inside, smiling softly at Mabel but narrowing her blue eyes at Dipper. She sat beside Mabel and side-hugged her gently.  
All throughout this, the trio stayed silent.  
“It’s good to see you, Pacifica,” Mabel said, leaning into her girlfriend. They’d gotten together a few years ago, and even though they lived hours apart, their relationship managed to stay strong. Dipper wasn’t surprised that she’d forgiven Pacifica. He stayed quiet for the time being, chewing his cheeseburger blankly. “Do you want to order something? I’m paying tonight,” Mabel continued.  
“No, I’m not hungry.” The blonde set her head against his twin’s. Dipper looked on, pretending to ignore them. “And I’ll pay,” she added.  
They ate in relative silence. Pacifica paid, as promised, and they all traveled back to the Mystery Shack in Mabel’s Civic. The girls took the front, and Dipper sat in the back. Pop music played quietly, but no one sang along.  
Dipper unlocked the front door of the Shack and let his sister and his sister’s girlfriend in. He finally found the will to speak after they were all standing inside. “So,” he said. “Why’d you drop by, Pacifica? I know that you’d just call Mabel over to your place if you wanted to hang out with her, so... “ They were both staring at him at this point. “So, what’s up?” he finished nervously.  
Pacifica turned to face him fully. Her fingers laced through Mabel’s. “Dipper,” she said, “What we did, that time, at my house… That wasn’t supposed to happen.”  
Dipper nodded quickly in agreement. His ears felt hot. “I know- I know. I’m so sorry about that, Pacifica. I wasn’t thinking…”  
“Neither was I. I had a few drinks and…”  
“I’m really sorry, you guys,” Dipper finished first. He didn’t want to talk about their mistake. He wanted to relax and lay down and watch a movie with his twin.  
Away from Pacifica.  
But the blonde pressed on. “I just want you to know. That won’t happen again. I really like someone-” She squeezed Mabel’s hand, and Mabel squeezed back. “-and I don’t want any more problems. Bumps in the road. Whichever tickles your fancy.” Her blue eyes flicked up to meet Dipper’s. “Cool?”  
“Totally. Completely. One hundred percent cool. I’m going to bed.” He knew Pacifica wouldn’t leave too soon, and might stay the night like she usually did whenever she visited, so he wanted to keep his distance. Mabel broke away from her beloved and kissed Dipper on the forehead, smiling softly.  
“Goodnight, bro-bro,” she murmured as she padded over to the couch. Then she became wild again, and pulled Pacifica on top of her, and they began wrestling and messing up the cushions.  
Dipper headed upstairs. _God, is everyone here bipolar? Serious or funny. Pick one…_ He went into Stan’s room- his room now- and collapsed on the bed. The brief cat-nap he’d had didn’t help with his exhaustion, and he thought a full night of sleep might do him some good.  
He glanced at the clock. _Only 9:30,_ he thought. _They’ll be up for a while. If I can’t sleep, I’ll go hang out with Mabel._  
Then the spinning of the fan overhead slowed drastically, and the color drained from the space around him.  
“You in a better mood yet, kid?”


	2. Collecting

Dipper stared at the monster floating in front of his bedroom door. “No,” he answered slowly. “No, I’m not. So leave me alone.”  
Bill folded its arms over what might’ve been its chest. “You were fine half an hour ago,” it snapped. “I just wanna’ _talk_ , kid. Hear me out!”  
Dipper yanked the colorless duvet over his head. It was pointless trying to argue with a triangle.  
“Guess that means I can speak without being interrupted.” He felt his mattress dip, but only a little, under the weight of Bill as it continued. “Like I said before. I’ve been pretty horrible to you meatbags, and I wanna’ make it up to you! Eh? _Eh?_ ” Its echoing voice bounced off the walls and repeated itself several times in Dipper’s ears, despite being muffled by the sheet on top of him.  
Dipper peeled the blanket away and sat up. Bill sat on the edge of his bed, turned slightly so that its eye was locked on him, its hands clasped together. It looked like a mother. “For what price?” Dipper demanded, staring the shape down. There was always a price. He didn’t want it to ‘make it up to him’; he just wanted it to stop bugging him.  
“You’re so rude, kid.” It went back to hovering above Dipper, seeming to show its authority. With a snap of its black fingers, its glowing cane was twirling in its grip. “Maybe I don’t have a price! Maybe I just wanna’ help out!”  
“You don’t want to help out. Cut to the chase, Bill.” Dipper was asleep in his dimension, but he yawned anyway. Dealing with the dream demon had become normal for him, but he still hated it. Right now he just didn’t feel like being angry.  
“Well... How’s about a body, kid? My very own sack a’ meat!” Bill laughed its maniacal laugh. “Not yours, kid-- the look on your face! A more permanent one is my idea of a good time.”  
Dipper groaned. What was it even talking about? “I can’t just make a body appear,” he said.  
“No, you can’t, Pine Tree. You’re not strong enough.” Dipper scoffed at that. “But maybe,” Bill kept going, “You could take one…?” “I’m not letting you possess someone, Bill.” “No, no… At least, not anybody _alive_.”  
Dipper frowned deeply. “You want to be a zombie.” The triangle bobbed the top portion of itself up and down, bending to do so. It seemed to be nodding. Dipper tilted his head a fraction. “You want me to find a dead body--” “I actually already picked mine out.” “--and you’ll ‘help out’ if I get you one?” “Yessir!”  
The brunette removed his tattered hat and carded his fingers through his fluffy hair. “What do you mean, ‘help out’?” He was still going to say no. Curiosity groped at him, however.  
“I _mean_ I can help out. Work. Someone’s gotta’ teach me how to be a meatbag, and you’re my favorite meatbag! I’ll work at the Mystery Shack for free. Help out around the house. Whadda’ ya say?” Bill’s eye crinkled in that smiling way again.  
It was actually pretty convincing.  
Dipper did need assistance in the Shack. He could send Bill into town with fliers or something- if the demon didn’t destroy everyone while he was there.  
But Dipper knew there was a twist to the deal, so when Bill held its skeletal hand out, the limb swallowed by blue flames that made the room cold, he shook his head. “I’ll sleep on it,” he said. _The irony of that statement._ “It’s a figure of speech,” he added quickly.  
The demon seemed reluctant when it lowered its arm. The fire dispersed. “I’ll bother you tomorrow night, then,” it said.  
Then Dipper woke a good thirty minutes before the Mystery Shack was supposed to open, and vacantly rose to take a shower. 

 

Bill sat in the Mindscape vaguely, hanging in the air like a star with a few missing points. He tossed a blackbird between his gaunt hands, plucking its feathers every once in a while.  
He hoped Pine Tree actually thought about their deal.  
It was just so _boring_ in the Mindscape, and in all the other dimensions, the Pines were uninteresting. So was every other human. Bill had wrecked havoc on one universe where everyone was incredibly allergic to cats and had sharp, furred ears and tails, but that only took up a few hours of his time.  
He made destroying dimensions a daily thing to make the days go by quicker.  
Bill dropped the squawking featherless heap of flesh and bone, crossing his ebony legs and continuing to hover. He sat like this until night fell in Pine Tree’s dimension, then righted himself and traveled to where the kid’s mind usually rippled open when he fell asleep. Then he lounged around for a couple more hours until the small crack in the air split wide open, a whirlpool of memories twisting within.  
“Pine Tree!” he greeted the moment the man went unconscious. Pine Tree, in answer, flipped him off. Bill had to laugh. “So, have ya’ thought about our _deal_?” He made his voice rumble and hiss. Pine Tree frowned.  
“How do I know that you won’t kill me when you become human? Or eat my brains? Or run away and take over Gravity--” “ _Whoa,_ kid!” Bill chortled. “One question at a time!”  
“Fine,” the meatbag said. “How do I know that I can trust you in the Mystery Shack?”  
“You can’t,” Bill answered. He knew it would make the human suspicious, but he was at least going to _try_ being honest. “You’ll just have to-” He spread his arms out in an arc above his hat. Sparkles spilled from his palms. “-believe in yourself. And me.”  
Pine Tree rolled both of his eyes. “Why do you want to help again?” he asked.  
Bill attempted a triangular shrug. “Why not, kid? I’m bored. Nothing strikes me as interesting anymore. And you,” He threw a bony hand out at the meatsack’s face, “Are bored too. I’ll add to the deal-- I’ll help around your trashbin of a home and workplace, _and_ I’ll show you some junk to add to your journals! Yeah? _Yeah_?”  
The kid’s eyes narrowed. Bill’s own eye squinted in a smile. _Say okay, say okay, say okay._  
“How do I get you a body?” 

 

Dipper folded up his lined paper and tucked it into his pants pocket. He checked the time on his mobile: seven AM. With a nod, he flicked the phone onto his bed and trudged downstairs.  
His hand still stung from the icy-hotness of blue flames lapping at his arm.  
“Mabel,” he called. She scampered out of the kitchen a moment later, a bowl of cereal in her hands. Her mouth was full. Dipper smiled and patted her head while he passed her.  
Once he made it to the back door, Mabel made a confused noise. “I’m going to get some groceries,” he lied. “Open the Shack if I’m not home by nine.”  
His sister swallowed her mouthful of cereal and coughed up milk. “Okie-dokie,” she managed after clearing her throat. Then she wandered back into the kitchen.  
_I should’ve told her the truth._ He started his grimy Tacoma and drove quietly, ignoring the alternative rock playing on the radio. _She’ll see the body I dug up when I come home. And if she doesn’t then, she’ll see it later, when it’s walking around and doing chores._ A light drizzle hit his windshield as he turned the truck and pulled into the town’s cemetery.  
_Perfect,_ Dipper thought glumly as he removed his keys from their place and set them in his pocket. He then fished his paper out and unfolded it.  
The instructions for resurrecting the dead sat in his hands.  
_Step One: find Bill’s chosen body. Name is Alben Dov._  
_Step Two: Smear blood on body’s face. Any amount will do._  
_Step Three: Place piece of silver on body._  
He hoped he remembered it all correctly; Bill had told him the instructions in the Mindscape, but Dipper couldn’t write them down there. He’d asked the demon to repeat itself multiple times before waking back up.  
Dipper retrieved the shovel he’d brought from his trunk, his expression twisting. He was going to dig up a man’s body to offer to a demon while it rained. He sighed and headed to where Bill claimed the grave would be at, unsure of why he was even doing this.  
It was easy enough to dig through the softening dirt of the grave once he found it- under a lively willow tree, as Bill’d said it would be- because the rain became heavier. Fat drops of cold water splattered his back as he worked the coffin out of its hole. Then he pried the lid off with the edge of his shovel and leaned forward to inspect the corpse he was stealing.  
Alben Dov had bright blonde, almost yellow, hair on the right side of his head that hung over his hidden eye, but the other side was cropped short and black. He had long eyelashes and simple but admittedly attractive features. He had a plain black suit on, as most corpses in graveyards did, with a cane clasped in his slender hands, held over himself diagonally. He wasn’t rotting yet. Dipper suspected Bill had chosen him because he was fresh. Or because he had a silly cane like the dream demon.  
Dipper heaved the body from its resting place and prayed he wouldn’t be haunted as he shoved it into the backseat of his truck, seated upright. Then he kicked the coffin back into Alben’s grave and stood in the rain until the mud melted from his hands. Not bothering to put the soil back where it was, he threw the shovel into the back next to Bill’s future host, climbed in himself, and started his Tacoma.  
The faint smell of death was unnerving to Dipper, but he ignored it and pulled into the grocery store’s parking lot. He’d told Mabel that he was going to go shopping for food, so he was going to.  
The store was nearly empty, minus the few employees and the occasional man grabbing a sandwich or a drink from the deli during their lunch break. Dipper grabbed milk, another box of fruit snacks, and- after checking his wallet- a bag of premade salad and a frozen pizza. He would make it for dinner tonight, to apologize to Mabel for resurrecting the dead and bringing a demon into his home. He paid the cute girl at the cash register with a smile, dropped the few dollars he got back in change into their tip jar (stupidly, being so low on money) and headed back into the rain.  
Then he drove to the Mystery Shack, slowly regretting what he was doing.


	3. Success

Dipper pulled the pizza out of the oven as Mabel poured too much dressing on their premade salad. He glanced over at what his sister was doing and noticed that she was texting her girlfriend while pouring ranch into the bowl of onions and tomatoes and lettuce, almost filling it to the lip of the container. Dipper dropped the pizza on top of the stove and snatched the dressing away.  
Mabel didn’t even notice.  
The man sighed and shook his head, putting the ranch in the fridge. “Sit down, Mabel,” he said as he retrieved a pizza cutter. She pulled a chair out with her free hand and then paused, finally looking up from her phone. “Dipper! Let’s eat in the living room. Movie night!” Then she hurried out of the kitchen.  
Dipper cut the pizza and stepped over the pig Mabel had talked Pacifica into buying for her during their sleepover a couple days ago. It was dropped off while he was out shopping and digging up coffins. She’d named it Hamlet. _Clever._  
Putting a glob of salad and a slice of pizza on two plates, the younger twin headed to the couch, where Mabel was seated with her feet tucked underneath her. She grunted a ‘thank you’ and stuffed her face with salad using the plastic fork he’d given her, not glancing up from her mobile.  
Dipper exhaled heavily again. “Mabel, why don’t you just go to Pacifica’s place?” he asked. He grabbed the remote and turned his new albeit small flatscreen television on, where Sherlock was paused on Netflix. He pressed play and half-watched the detective deduce that a cab driver was the serial killer of the episode while his sister answered.  
“I want to chill with you, bro-bro,” she said distractedly. “This is really good,” she added through another mouthful of salad.  
Her brother smiled tiredly. “I worked all day, Mabel, and I woke up early to get dinner. I’ll just pass out here.” Dipper moved his untouched plate to the coffee table. “Go have fun.”  
Mabel looked over at him, and he nodded reassuringly. She shut her phone off and gathered his limp body in a hug. “Okay, bro-bro.” Her lips smushed against his forehead wetly and she snorted out a laugh at his disgusted expression. Then she ran upstairs, where Dipper knew she kept her supplies and clothes.  
Dipper waited, his expression passive, until Mabel bounced back down the steps. She ruffled his fluffy hair on her way to the back door.  
“I’ll be there in a few,” she said into the phone, then giggled sweetly and said her goodbyes. Dipper turned his head to see her pocket her mobile and wave to him as the door creaked open. He played with the silver ring around his middle finger, feeling the infinity sign sculpted into it.  
Then he was alone.  
_No time like the present._  
Dipper waited until he couldn’t hear her sparkly car anymore to jump up and sprint to the upper floor of the Shack. He skidded down the hall and whipped his bedroom door open, then promptly yanked his weak closet door off one of its rusty hinges while getting it open.  
Alben’s body lay dead on top of his old boxes of clothes from his teenage years.  
Dipper sighed in mild relief. He’d seen zombies before, and he’d been paranoid ever since he got home that morning. It was a good thing only a little tourists visited the Mystery Shack today; he wouldn’t’ve been able to give tours out of fear that a prop would come to life, haunted by Alben’s disturbed soul.  
Dipper grabbed the corpse by the armpits and dragged it unceremoniously out of his room. Its legs and back hit the stairs harshly when he brought it to the ground floor, and it thumped on the porch steps as he lugged it out onto the dirt. Then he flicked his foldable hunting knife from his hoodie’s pocket. Dipper flicked it open, revealing the wavy blade.  
As he carved into the palm of his left hand- the one he didn’t write with- he realized he was glad only a small amount of blood was needed to bring a man to life. With a grimace, Dipper squeezed the cut until beads of crimson hit the dead man’s forehead.  
Then he worked the silver friendship ring Mabel had given him off of his finger. Bill had said silver needed to be put on the body for it to be bound to Earth or to the caster or something, Dipper didn’t remember. He set the band on top of the carcass and then smudged his thumb across the drying blood on its face, smearing it like the baboon did in The Lion King.  
How Bill would take Alben over, Dipper didn’t know, because he hadn’t bothered to ask. But he was sure the demon would find a way to make it work.  
He stepped back a few feet, no longer absent and unaware of his actions, but incredibly cautious. He returned his switchblade to his pocket and waited nervously.  
Nothing happened.  
Dipper blinked and released the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. _Nothing… happened._ For some reason, he was disappointed. He’d forgotten how fun playing with magic was, and once he’d finally come back to it, he’d apparently done it wrong.  
Groaning in minor annoyance, the brunette walked back up to Alben’s unmoving form. He grabbed his ring and slid it back on, then took hold of the body’s wrists, standing over it. His face hovered over the corpse’s, forcing him to stare at its dead expression. He was going to have to drag it by its arms back to his Tacoma and into the cemetery. He guessed Bill would stay bored.  
Just when Dipper began lifting the carcass, though, he felt Alben’s pulse jump against his palm.  
Alarmed, he moved to drop the man, but its cold fingers wrapped around his forearms in a chillingly tight hold, keeping him there. Dipper panicked and slipped on the still-moist soil, landing on top of Alben- or Bill- whatever it was.  
Alben-Bill-thing yanked Dipper flush against his muddy tuxedo like a security blanket, gasping like he’d been drowning while being punched in the gut repeatedly. Their foreheads knocked together, and Dipper could see the other male’s showing eye flicker from a dead auburn to a bright hazel. _Bill._  
The man, now a demon’s host, gasped helplessly once more before going limp.  
Dipper reeled away from the unconscious mess of a person, finally finding his voice and screaming. He sounded twelve again, but didn’t care. He’d made a zombie(again), given a demon a host(again), made super good pizza, and probably gotten his older twin sister laid.  
All in one hour.  
Dipper’s screams died away when his throat began to burn.  
“Oh, man,” he managed hoarsely.  
He fully collapsed onto his back, arms splayed at his sides. _I literally just invited a demon into my home. Am I even thinking? Do I think anymore? I robbed a_ grave, _for god’s sake!_  
Dipper stayed like that until he leveled his shallow breathing. Then he got up and crawled over to Bill’s new body, checking to see if he was even still alive. With two tentative fingers to the man’s wrist, Dipper waited for a pulse.  
A steady beat played against his pads.  
The brunette closed his eyes briefly, both relieved and annoyed. Now Bill could bother him whenever, but he couldn’t interfere with his dreams. Now he could help around the house, but not be kept from destroying the town.  
_Should I have even done this?_ Dipper looked down at Bill’s new face, comely and slightly feminine. He had olive skin that slowly regained color and light freckles. His pale chapped lips were parted, and his thick dark eyelashes fluttered. Bill wheezed with every exhale.  
He’d never looked so vulnerable and not-demonic.  
“Too late now,” Dipper grunted. He lifted Bill, more carefully now that he was alive, and struggled to gather the lanky, dirty body in his arms. Once he was ready, Dipper fought to get back inside, turning sideways to fit through the backdoor.  
He hurried through the kitchen and to the living room, as he could feel Bill slipping from his hold, and dropped the sleeping figure on the couch.  
Then he went to his room for his phone.  
Dipper found the electronic where he’d left it, tossed onto his bed. He flopped beside it and turned it on before firing a quick text to Mabel.  
_good news. new employee just dropped in. surprise!!! u dont have 2 work so much now!!_  
He had to text Mabel like that or she made fun of him for being a literate nerd.  
Dipper put the mobile on his bedside table and got back up, not bothering to wait for a response. He suddenly had to go to the bathroom.  
Once he relieved himself, Dipper washed his hands and went back downstairs. He had to keep an eye on Bill.  
Who was already awake, standing beside the coffee table and inspecting Dipper’s dinner.  
With no pants or underwear on.  
Dipper froze at the bottom of the steps and made eye contact with the half-naked demon. There was a brief silence. “Bill,” the brunette said slowly. “What are you doing.”  
“What am _I_ doing?” There was the annoying voice, just without its dark, evil echo. “You bruised this body _horribly_! My damn ass has woodchips in it. Did you freakin’ rape me before you woke me up?”  
Dipper was taken aback by both the curse word and the rudeness of the usually proper demon’s question. He leaned to the side and inspected Bill's behind in spite of himself, cringing at the sight of already purpling flesh. “What? No!” he answered sharply, quickly looking at the demon's face before he seemed like a pervert. Or a liar. “I dragged you down the stairs. Now put your clothes on!”  
“You can’t make me,” Bill retorted as he tore his way out of his shirt and suit top. Before he could pop the last button off the clothing, though, he suddenly staggered and fell over, _thwack_ ing his chin against the sofa’s arm.  
Despite the horrible way Bill was _already_ acting, Dipper’s human instinct was to shuffle over and help the naked man onto the couch. Then he draped the tuxedo’s jacket over the demon’s personal area. “You’re not used to this body yet,” he said, earning a pained hiss of ‘thanks, captain obvious’. Dipper continued with a frown, “You’re not strong enough to argue with me is my point, let alone be kicked out of my house for being an ass. And if you’re an ass, _I’m kicking you out._ The deal will be off.”  
Bill smirked up at him, despite being naked and clutching his jaw where it smashed into the hard arm of the couch, red dripping from the corner of his upturned lips. “I’m a demon,” he countered smoothly. “I don’t need you.”  
“You said something different earlier.” Dipper gripped the skinnier man’s chin, earning a bark of discomfort. He had to show authority, or the shit would hit the fan. “You won’t last a day on your own, Bill. And if you do, you’ll get bored. Don’t test me when you know I’m right and you’re wrong, because I’m going to be smarter than you in this world, and you’re going to need me.”  
Bill glared up at him viciously, and he would’ve been worried had the demon been clothed and strong. Dipper squeezed the host’s face until he yelped again, jerking his head away from the brunette’s firm hand.  
Triumphantly, Dipper released him and rose from his crouched position next to the couch. He headed upstairs for a pair of boxers and a t-shirt for Bill to wear. He grabbed Mabel’s first-aid kit, too.  
_I’ll try the whole ‘punish and reward’ thing first._ He tossed the clothes at Bill, who looked up from staring at both Hamlet and the quiet television to examine the outfit thrown to him.  
With a dark look in Dipper’s direction, the demon slipped into the clothes that were much too big for him, stumbling a little like he did earlier before settling on the dirty sofa. Dipper smiled gently and opened the first-aid kit, sitting beside his new employee.  
_It works with dogs. It should work fine with a bitchy demon._


	4. Discovery

Dipper ran his thumb over the bandaging that he’d dressed his palm with the night before. He smiled widely and thankfully at the bundle of tourists shuffling into the Shack, and stepped out from behind the counter.  
“Welcome!” he called, and then carried on enthusiastically before leading tired parents and jolly children through his building.  
This repeated three times throughout the work day before the Mystery Shack closed. Dipper flipped the ‘open’ sign over and removed Stan’s old eyepatch from his face, followed by the red hat.  
He locked the front door and headed into the living room, where Bill lay sleeping. Dipper dropped a hand on the demon’s shoulder and shook him until he moaned. “Mabel’s coming home to meet you,” the brunette said. “Get dressed and act busy.” He jogged upstairs briefly to change into jeans and a t-shirt. Then he went into the kitchen, ignoring the irritated noises spilling from Bill’s damaged mouth.  
As he filled a pot with hot water and set it on the stove, Dipper mulled over what to tell his twin. _Hey, you remember the demon that ruined our childhood? He’s my roommate now!_ He sighed and hopped up onto the counter, _And he’s too tired to help out around the house like he promised he would._ Bill had barely moved, only shifting over when Dipper sat next to him the night before, inspected his bruised jaw, and forced him to put some underwear on.  
“Damn demon,” he muttered, staring at the water and wishing for it to boil quicker. He just wanted to eat and go to sleep and not deal with anything.  
There was a thumping in the living room, and then a loud, obnoxious sound. Dipper’s shoulders sagged in exhaustion as he went to see what happened.  
Bill sat crumpled on the floor next to the couch, twisted up in the thick wooly blanket Dipper had dropped on him after he’d passed out. “I have no clothes,” the blonde stated when Dipper unraveled him from the sheet. He nodded. “I know. I’ll have to buy you some or something… Can you walk up stairs?”  
Bill looked over at the staircase groggily. His visible eye blinked, a light golden hue now, when he turned back to Dipper. “I can handle it.” He rose wobbly and stomped over to the steps, then scaled them painfully slowly. He gripped the railing with a white-knuckled grasp.  
Dipper shook his head. “You should know where my room is, being a stalker and all. Look through the boxes in my closet for something presentable to wear.” He went back into the kitchen and poured the pasta into the gladly boiling water atop the stove. There were heavy footsteps above him, signalling that Bill had made it to his room. Dipper knew he should be nervous about the demon looking through his things, or searching for the Journals, but he could tell Bill was just too tired.  
Becoming a zombie intentionally must be hard work.  
_That doesn't mean he can slack off all day._ Dipper stirred the noodles as they gradually softened. The back door to the kitchen was unlocked and popped open while he poured a pinch of salt into the pot.  
“Heya’, bro-bro,” Mabel said as she slammed it shut again. She squeezed her brother violently from behind, nearly raising him off the floor. “Where’s this employee you told me about? Did he head home yet?”  
“Well-” Dipper was cut off by a loud _bang_ overhead. “--no. He’s upstairs.” Mabel gave him a confused frown from over his shoulder before letting him go. “Why is he upstairs?” she questioned.  
“He, uh, has no place to go,” Dipper lied quickly. He was amazed by how easily he could tell a fib to his twin. But if he thought about it, that really wasn't a lie. “He’s going to stay here, in exchange for, uhm, work.” She blinked at Dipper, staring with narrowed mocha eyes for a moment before there was a bunch of clunks signalling Bill fell down the stairs.  
They both rushed into the living room to help the man up. He wore a pair of loose cargo shorts and a t-shirt that read “BABBA” on it. _Still too big on him._ Dipper made himself keep a straight face at Bill’s attire as he and his sister brought him to the plaid couch.  
“He’s tired,” the brunette told Mabel. Bill was already sprawled out along the yellow cushions, dead to the world once again. She dipped her head slowly in understanding. “So am I,” she admitted.  
“Well, you can go to sleep after dinner. I made spaghetti.” Dipper walked back into the kitchen. _Sure am doing a lot of running around today…_ Mabel sat at the table while Dipper took a spoonful of noodles and plucked one from the bunch. Then he threw it against the wall.  
It stuck.  
Happy that dinner was already finished, the man strained the water from the pot and took out two paper bowls and another pair of silverware. He dropped two helpings into the containers and heated up a jar of tomato sauce.  
“Sauce?” “Yep.” He slathered both piles in the steaming red topping before carrying them to the table. Before he sat down, he wrapped up a third bowl with plastic wrap and put it in the microwave, in case Bill woke up hungry.  
“Did you have fun?” Mabel looked up from her already half-eaten spaghetti to grin. “Sure did,” she said cheekily. Dipper rolled his eyes with a smile. He knew what she meant by now, and he was happy for her.  
The twins finished their meal between laughs and meaningless chat involving what movies Pacifica had at her house and how many soda stains were on the jackalope. Mabel cleared the table while Dipper filled a red solo cup with water from the sink, sipping it once.  
“Do you think we could move- what’s his name?” Mabel stood in the living room with the television remote in her hand, pointing at Bill’s motionless body with her free finger.  
Dipper flinched and covered it up with another tiny drink of water. “Bill,” he said cautiously, setting the cup on the table. “His name is Bill.”  
His sister looked down at Bill, then back up to Dipper. She smiled.  
“Cute,” she said.  
_Mabel doesn’t remember._  
With a heavy breath of relief, Dipper strode forward and promptly rolled the demon off the sofa. Bill sat up, spluttering like he’d just been shoved into a bath. Dipper sat down and patted the spot next to him, where Mabel dropped, stifling a giggle into her pink sleeve.  
“What the hell, kid?!” Bill barked. He scrambled onto his feet, the blanket still in a pool beneath him. “Y’know I’m not used to--” Dipper kicked him in the leg and nodded sharply to Mabel, who didn’t see the gesture.  
Bill hissed but lowered his voice to an inside tone. “Y’know I’m tired from my first day on the job,” he finished. “Lots of tourists.”  
“Yeah, well, you’ve done enough sleeping on the couch today. Your dinner’s in the microwave.” Dipper smiled and nodded. _He’s learning._  
The demon gave Dipper a confused look. Mabel spoke up. “Hi, Bill! I’m Mabel!” She grinned widely. “I’ll show you where the microwave is.” She got up and led Bill into the kitchen. Dipper turned the television on to seem occupied, but kept an ear out for any demonic activity. 

 

“We had spaghetti today,” Shooting Star told Bill as she practically carried him into the kitchen. His bare feet shuffled along the wood.  
He could feel the splinters biting through his flesh.  
“Sounds great,” Bill said, giving her a warm smile. _Is that how it is, Pine Tree? Fine. Let’s play charades._  
“Say,” he started as the she-kid brought the room temperature food to the table and sat across from him. “You got a real nice sweater. Shooting star design?” He quirked a brow at her hot pink top, a star with a rainbow gushing from it stitched to her front. “Where’d you get it?”  
Shooting Star’s smile never faded .”Sewed it myself. I already had a sweater like this, but I grew out of it. I make clothes for a living.”  
Bill feigned interest, twirling the odd spiked plastic thing that was next to his bowl. He didn’t want to eat this trash, whatever it was. “Wow! All on your own?” The girl nodded. Her thick brown hair bounced.  
He gagged internally. _Women._ “That’s amazing! And your brother runs this place all on _his_ own?” Shooting Star bobbed her head again.  
_She used to have braces,_ Bill thought, seeing her straightened out teeth while she smiled. “Your family really is amazing,” he returned her upturn of lips. “Shooting Star.”  
The she-kid seemed lost for a moment, then she gasped sharply. Bill thought she’d realized who he very obviously was. “What a cute nickname!” she squealed. “I don’t have one for you, though. Tell me more about yourself. I’ll come up with something!” _Dumbass._  
Bill twitched his nose, trying to think up a story, but Pine Tree walked in to save the day. “It’s time for bed,” he announced. “It’s getting late, and we have to work tomorrow.” The demon thankfully fell silent for the time being, reaching for a red cup left on the table. He looked inside of it, then gulped down the whole drink. _That feels much better._  
"Now, Mabel," Pine Tree continued. Shooting Star made an ugly face that Bill guessed was a pout, but got up from her seat and headed for the living room. She paused in the doorway.  
“Where’s Bill sleeping?” she asked. Pine Tree opened his mouth to answer, but the demon smirked and replied smoothly in his stead.  
“In your brother’s room, of course.”  
Shooting Star looked from her brother to Bill, blinking several times. She gave a hushed gasp and squished her fat cheeks in her hands. _Probably gross, sweaty hands. God, I hate her. Pine Tree is so much better._  
Said man flushed with color and gave Bill a violent glance, pupils dilated.  
“Okay,~” the she-kid purred, gallivanting up the stairs.  
Bill turned his head to face Pine Tree. 

 

“I am going to punch that stupid smile _off your face._ ”  
Bill snorted with laughter and dove over the table when Dipper lunged for him, smearing sauce and noodles all over his BABBA shirt. The demon struggled onto his feet and bolted out the back door. Dipper followed a few feet behind after kicking his way off the table and knocking it over.  
The brunette yelled random curses as Bill shot behind his black Tacoma. He skidded and grabbed at the back of the blonde’s ruined shirt, but missed, and they ran around the truck in circles until Dipper turned on his heel and went the other way. He tackled Bill to the dirt head-on. Beneath him, the gaunt figure shook with laughter. _I'm sure Mabel's watching us, laughing too._  
“You _ass_ ,” Dipper grunted. “Mabel thinks we’re a thing now!”  
“And?” Bill practically trembled, giggles bubbling from his mouth. The small scrape on his jaw stretched as the skin of his face did from how wide he was grinning.  
“ _And_ we aren’t a thing.” The Shack’s owner sat back on Bill’s legs. He wasn’t actually going to punch the demon; he only chased because Bill ran. It was an automatic instinct to hunt what acted like prey.  
“Fine, fine…” That shit-eating grin melted into a tired smile. “But you can’t lie to Shooting Star anymore than you already have, hmm? I’ll sleep in your bed anyway. My gift to you.” _I’m not lying because I want to,_ the brunette wanted to say. _Your shittiness is making me. I have to come up with everything myself._  
Bill pushed Dipper off and got onto his bare feet. Dipper followed suit. “Oh, no, you aren’t,” he said instead. “It’s my bed. You can sleep on the floor if you absolutely insist on being in there.”  
“My back hurts _so much_ , though, Pine Tree.” The demon went around the vehicle and back inside, not bothering to hold the door for Dipper. When he came in too, he shut and locked said door. Bill tossed his untouched bowl into the garbage.  
Dipper frowned. “That’s not my fault. You shouldn’t sleep on the couch for a day-and-a-half.” He dumped the tomato sauce into the pot of spaghetti and covered its opening with plastic wrap. Then he stuck the leftovers in the fridge, his eyebrow twitching at the dying whale noises Bill made behind him. “I’m not budging, so feel free to shut up whenever. I’m tired because I actually _worked_ today, so I’m going to bed. You should sleep too, since you’re helping tomorrow.”  
Summer was almost over. Mabel would go back to California and Dipper would be left alone with a demon in, what, four days? He had to teach the dream beast how to do chores, make food, give tours, and shower, too, probably. He shuddered. _Hopefully I can just write it all down or tell him what to do and he’ll remember._  
The brown-haired man fed the fish in the living room that managed to survive all the havoc of Gravity Falls. Then he made his way upstairs and went into the bathroom to brush his teeth. Dipper grabbed his blue toothbrush and held its bristles under the sink’s water flow while Bill followed him into the cramped room and watched. Now self-conscious, the brunette carefully squirted some toothpaste onto the wet brush, and began working at his teeth.  
“Ew,” Bill said. “You just put paste in your mouth like it’s normal? And I thought eating was weird.” He picked up Mabel’s bright pink toothbrush and ran his finger over the still-dripping bristles from when she’d cleaned her own mouth a little bit ago, spraying Dipper with the sister-mouth-water.  
Dipper glared at Bill darkly until he set the pink object on the sink and, grinning, left the bathroom. Dipper spat out the foamy mess that toothpaste made, rinsed his mouth out, and put both toothbrushes where they belonged. He wasn’t going to tell Mabel that hers was touched by their arch enemy/roommate.  
He went to his own room after climbing the stairs to the attic and saying goodnight to her, where she lay all bundled up like a burrito innocently on the air mattress he bought for her visits. Hamlet rested beside her. She smiled a knowing smile as he left the attic, grumbling. _I’d get Bill an air mattress if he was worth the money._  
Dipper closed his bedroom door behind him and stood in the inky blackness, the tension seeping from his body and letting his shoulders droop. He took his shirt and jeans off, followed by his socks and his hat. Once clad in his boxers, Dipper collapsed on his favorite side of the bed and felt around the bedside table for his phone.  
He checked his texts, but only saw one message from an author friend reminding him he had to finish a draft of the story he wanted to write.  
Dipper sighed. _I haven’t even started._ There was so much going on in his life, and he couldn’t do anything to slow the activity. He rolled over onto his side, facing away from the door and small table, and brushed his knee against something hard beneath his duvet.  
Carefully, Dipper reached behind him and pulled the small chain that turned his lamp on. Light flooded the room and tinted Bill’s olive skin gold, illuminating him in his spot on the other male’s mattress. Dipper shut his phone off and dropped it heavily on the demon’s cheek.  
_”Bill!”_  
The blonde sat up, mobile falling from his face, narrowing his yellowish eye at Dipper. “I’m tryin’a sleep, Pine Tree,” he complained.  
“Not on _my bed_! We just talked about this!” The stronger pushed Bill until he fell, hissing and yowling, onto the hardwood floor.  
_”Fine!”_ Bill, in return, ripped the duvet out from under Dipper, sending him rolling and toppling to the flooring on the opposite side of the bed. “Quit being so damn grouchy!”  
Dipper climbed back onto his rightful sleeping place. “You’re one to talk,” he said loudly. “Give me back my blanket!”  
“No! You get the bed, _I_ get the blanket!” Bill rose and stormed over to the other side of the room.  
Blue fire snapped at his heels, partially hidden by the duvet he’d cocooned himself in.  
_Magic._  
Dipper stared at the demon long enough for him to notice. “What?” he asked in a sharp tone. He looked down at his feet, but the fire was gone.  
“Nothing,” Dipper mumbled after a brief pause. He lowered himself onto his back and shut the light off again before Bill could give a witty response. Instead, the only sound the demon made was the shifting of the duvet he’d stolen.  
_Bill has magic._ Dipper stared into the darkness where Bill was. _Does he know?_  
_He couldn’t. He would’ve killed me for acting stronger than he is by now._ He curled up on his side, pulling one of his pillows over his legs and another over his torso. It was summer, but nights were still cool.  
_But if he does know, maybe he’s just been saving it up to kill me when I'm asleep._  
And despite being exhausted and having a fifty percent chance of not dying tonight if Bill wasn’t aware of his abilities, Dipper Pines never shut his eyes.


	5. Tiring

Dipper woke a good hour before it was time to open the Mystery Shack, thankfully alive. _Guess he doesn’t know._ He got out of bed and gathered his duvet, which lay in a nest-like heap on the floor. Bill had gotten up before him.  
He made his bed and took Stan’s tourist guide suit out of the closet. Before he put it on, he locked the bedroom door, in case Bill decided to come back and keep sleeping.  
Dipper hurried down the stairs, adjusting the red tie adorning his neck with his bandaged hand. In the kitchen, Mabel was pouring three bowls of cereal, and Bill sat soundlessly at the table, eyelids drooping.  
“Are you going to eat?” he quietly asked the demon, who shook his head. So he stopped his sister before she filled the third bowl with milk. “Bill isn’t hungry.”  
She gave Bill a weird look over her shoulder, then grinned, putting the bowl back into the cabinet. “You know him so well already,” she giggled. Dipper’s eyebrow twitched, but he said nothing, retreating to the free chair beside the table. Mabel gave him his cereal before hoisting herself onto the counter.  
“So, Bill,” Dipper said as he chewed, purposefully spitting pieces of soggy Special K in the blonde’s direction, “You ready to work?”  
“Ready, boss,” replied Bill sourly.  
Mabel finished gobbling down her Frosted Flakes and drank the sweetened milk that was left in her bowl before throwing it and her plastic spoon away. She pranced over and gave Bill’s dirty hair a ruffle, but recoiled a moment later.  
“Bill,” she gasped. “You need a shower!” The older twin then whirled around to face Dipper. Her lips curled cruelly. “Dipper can show you how the bath works.”  
“Great,” Bill answered. He smiled at her, then at Dipper, while he got to his feet. “I can’t wait.”  
_Of course this is how everything is going to work._  
Dipper took a few more bites of his cereal before sullenly leading the demon to the upstairs bathroom. When they arrived, Bill collapsed onto the closed toilet, holding his face in his hands. Dipper frowned slightly. “Are you alright?”  
The reply was muffled. “Yep. Just tired.”  
So the brunette closed the door. “Well, you’ve got to be up, and showers help humans feel refreshed.” He went to the tub after nudging Bill. “Watch me. You’re going to have to do this either every morning, or every night. Got it?”  
“Time is an illusion,” the demon hissed, but he redirected his attention to Dipper anyway.  
“Uhm, so… How do I explain this.” Dipper sat on the edge of the bath and turned the faucet on. “Turn this knob until it’s at the red mark, out of the blue, but not all the way red. Make sure it’s hot water, or you get sick.” Bill made a face. “Or you get a small, curable version of the Black Plague.” Then his lips formed an understanding ‘o’.  
“Then you take your clothes off- _not while I’m still here_ \- and pull this.” Dipper grabbed the mouth of the faucet and yanked. It stayed about an inch below its previous spot, and the showerhead spurted to life. “That’s how you turn the shower on. Now…”  
He carried on explaining how shampoo and conditioner were different, how to properly scrub one’s scalp, and that body wash wasn’t a must, but was a good idea since Bill still stank like a corpse. Dipper told him how to use deodorant but didn’t give the demon an example since he was already dressed, took a spare toothbrush from under the sink and convinced Bill he wouldn’t be _filling his mouth with concrete_ when he used it, and made it clear that Bill _must_ change all of his clothes, borrowed underwear included, daily.  
“We’ll go clothes shopping for you soon,” Dipper promised the blonde. “Now I have to go open the Shack. When you’re done here, wrap a towel around you,” he waved an arm at the fluffy cloth hanging on the back of the door, “and go straight to my room. Take your clothes with you and put them in the basket next to my door. Then get dressed in something nice and clean and come downstairs. Find me. Talk to no one.” Bill nodded throughout everything he was told. He hardly spoke. _He’s either getting better or not listening at all._  
Dipper smiled slightly and snapped his eyepatch onto his face. “I hope you got all of that.” He patted the demon’s shoulder and left the room, shutting the door behind him.  
Downstairs, Mabel was hurriedly sweeping the floor of the exhibit room. Dipper thanked her for doing so without being asked and smiled at the overjoyed look she always made at being praised.  
He went into the gift shop and unlocked the main entrance, flipping the door’s sign from “closed” to “open”. Then he gathered Mabel and put her behind the cash register. She adjusted Grunkle Stan’s picture on the wall once she got there, still grinning.  
“I don’t know how you can always be happy,” Dipper said, feigning annoyance. His sister’s smile just widened. “I don’t know how you _can’t_ be happy! That boyfriend of yours is hot!” “He’s not--” “Don’t even, Dip-Dop.”  
He gave her a deadly look as she fiddled with the jar of eyeballs on the counter, giggling.  
“Bill’s going to follow me around on tours so he can learn how to give them. I don’t want him in here with all this glass just yet,” Dipper explained, defeated. “So when he comes downstairs, send him straight to me if I’m giving a tour.”  
He went over to the closed door that led to the exhibit room and stood in front of it readily, praying for some tourists to come in today. _We need the money,_ he thought. Then his mind went to the dicky demon upstairs. _And I don’t feel like being laughed at for failing at my job._  
Mabel nodded in recognition and pulled her phone out while they began waiting. Dipper stood at attention in front of the exhibit room’s doorway.  
The sound of the shower above them was the only noise in the building. 

 

Bill put deodorant on, as instructed, after tasting the bar. His hair was soaked, and his flesh smelled odd, and his eyes stung pleasantly thanks to the ‘shampoo’ he was given, but he did feel rejuvenated.  
He awkwardly brushed his teeth and inspected himself in the mirror while doing so. _I’m so… skinny._ He brushed his fingers down his row of ribs, jumping at the ticklish sensation. The demon frowned at that, did it a few more times, got a laugh out of it, then got bored and finished brushing his teeth. He swallowed the foam in his mouth but gagged at the aftertaste and gulped several mouthfuls of water from the sink.  
“Bad idea,” he said aloud.  
Bill looked himself over once more, turning around and glaring at the welts and scratches and bruises ripping his backside apart. He glared at the marks with his visible eye, then curiously pushed his golden bangs out of the way of the other.  
It was a dull, fish-eye white, colorless and unseeing. If he closed his yellowish hue, he couldn’t see anything. _That makes sense, since I only have one eye._  
Satisfied with the discovery, he climbed onto the sink and picked the shards of wood that didn’t come out in the shower from his feet, wincing from the cold marble feel touching bare skin.  
When he was done admiring his gaunt, torn up form, Bill wrapped a towel around himself and grabbed Pine Tree’s borrowed clothes from the floor. He left the bathroom and headed to the room he slept in last night. His makeshift bed was gone.  
The demon shed his towel and shook his hair out like a wet dog. _I at least smell better than the damn animals now._ He didn’t bother closing the door, because he knew everyone would be downstairs, looking at the fake exhibits Stan had put together.  
Bill paused on his way to the closet. _I wonder where the old rat is?_ He shook his head and continued on a second later. _Probably on a beach somewhere, buying women._  
He looked through boxes of clothes that were out of date with this society, probably from Pine Tree’s teenage years, until he found a pale yellow dress shirt. A smile found its way upon his lips. _Lovely._ Bill kept searching, now set on finding black dress pants, until he successfully discovered a pair.  
Giddily, the blonde jogged over to Pine Tree’s dresser, stealing some underwear and socks. He put everything on as quickly as he could without rumpling the somehow wrinkless outfit before snatching some black dress shoes from behind Pine Tree’s bedroom door.  
Bill stopped by the clock hanging in the hallway despite his belief in time not being a thing, and noted that it had taken him an hour and a half to get ready for the day. He sighed and carefully made his way downstairs, like he had earlier that morning, being sure not to slip and break his skull like an egg.  
Shooting Star looked up when he entered the gift shop, tucking his creamy yellow shirt into his pants. “Heya’, Bill,” she greeted. “You’re looking fancy.” He hurriedly plastered a grin to his face, pretending to be excited in her presence.  
“Hi again, princess!” The demon adjusted the waist of his dress pants. “Thanks for noticing. Where’s your wonderful brother? I’m supposed to follow him around.”  
_And I don’t want to be in the same room as you any longer than I have to be._ He’d woken up first and gone to the kitchen to sit down, since he knew he’d fall asleep if he’d gone to the couch or stayed in Pine Tree’s room. She’d just joined him and he didn’t want to scare her off or try to fight her if he didn’t have magic. Without magic, he was a scraggly meatbag with nice hair.  
She smiled in response and gestured to the door leading to what Bill guessed was the exhibit room. “He’s giving a tour.” With a grateful nod, the blonde dove through the doorway and into the dim area beyond.  
Bill passed a plastic pterodactyl and a stuffed rabbit with deer antlers drilled into its forehead. He narrowed his eye at a hairy man’s leg with a glass eyeball glued to it. _Cheap old man._  
It didn’t take long to find Pine Tree, rambling on about the mysteries and monsters of the forest surrounding the Shack in the back of the wide corridor that was the exhibit room. He was pointing at wide-eyed children with his eight-ball cane. “--and the Multi-bear has eight heads and eight feet and loves girly pop music!” The brats laughed.  
Bill grinned at their idiocy and waltzed over to Pine Tree’s side. Some adults looked at him and smiled fake ‘hello, don’t talk to me’ smiles, and he returned them. A few teenage girls gave him a double-take when they spotted him and grinned _real_ smiles, but he paid them no mind. He was busy watching Pine Tree make a fool of himself by then.  
The brunette spewed stories about beasts in the woods, holding up a large sketchbook and flipping the pages every time he changed from one creature to the next. Each sheet had a surprisingly impressive drawing with Pine Tree’s signature on it. Bill rose his eyebrow and inspected every one closely.  
Before he knew it, the tour was announced as over. Pine Tree led the tourists back through the exhibit room, a smile still painted onto his lips. _He must be tired. Or horribly bored._ The demon looked around, arms folded behind his lower back. When his wrists lightly knocked against his behind, a jolt of slight pain shot through his body, causing his lips to twitch contently.  
The tourists fanned out into the gift shop and turned from a clump of meatbags to small packs. _Their own families._ Bill followed Pine Tree to the cash register, where Shooting Star stood, now busy collecting money and complimenting customers and hiding a small flat electronic behind her back as it vibrated.  
Bill remained practically glued to the the male twin’s side. He vaguely zoned out while the siblings conversed, uninterested in their chatting.  
“Excuse me?”  
The demon snapped out of his thoughts of becoming a triangle again, as this wasn’t much more fun than sitting around all day, and redirected his attention to three young women smiling at him.  
_Oh, please, no._  
“Yes?” he answered with a grin of his own.  
They giggled in sync. “We were wondering if there was a bathroom nearby?” questioned who seemed to be the leader of the trio. She was the shortest, bleach blonde hair falling to her hips and into her mocha eyes. A red bow hung in the light locks, and a brown leather purse slung across her shoulder, which was covered by a ruffly white vest and a sky-blue dress that ended at her knees. Her little boots matched her purse in material and color. She smiled nervously up at him, red tinting her cheeks and ears.  
_Ugh. Ew._ “Right this way,” Bill said cheerily, tapping Pine Tree’s shoulder before he departed so the brunette wouldn’t freak when he was gone, the three girls in tow.  
He took a quick look at the tiny woman’s friends as they all went into the bathroom at the same time. _It’s just a guest bathroom, I hope they know._  
One was taller than normal, almost as tall as Pine Tree, but maybe it was because of her orange heels. She had a loose black vest and white shirt underneath it, with extra-short-shorts colored forest green. Her eyes matched the first’s, deep brown, but her hair was a greenish-blue, tied into a bun at the back with plenty of strands tumbling down the fronts of her shoulders and over her ears. She regarded him coolly as she passed him.  
The last girl giggled wildly when he bowed and held the bathroom door open for them. Her bright strawberry blonde hair was done up in two pigtails, and her cream shawl-like shirt fell down her shoulders helplessly. She had a very frilly pink dress on underneath. Neon yellow high heels covered her feet and a red cap shielded her eyes from the summer sun. Bill didn’t know why she kept it on indoors.  
He gladly shut the door behind them, on the verge of throwing up. He could hear them chatting about how ‘cute’ he was.  
_How repulsive._  
Bill headed back to the cash register and went behind it, looming over Pine Tree’s shoulder as he thumbed through some wrinkled dollars. Quickly bored, the demon settled on watching Shooting Star, who was merrily talking with two _more_ teenage girls across the counter.  
These ones looked less slutty. The chubby one that was obviously flirting with Shooting Star had peppery auburn hair cut above her shoulders. She had a wool jumper on, kind of like the she-kid’s, but without any insane designs on it. It was a simple light brown, matching her eyes. Bill couldn’t tell if she wore shorts or a skirt beneath that, since the girl’s jumper was so big, hanging well past her hips.  
Her companion, shorter but skinnier than her, had long, windy-looking red hair and bright hazel eyes. She was smiling nervously at what the chubby one was saying, tugging at the hem of her yellow turtleneck. She shifted between sandalled feet anxiously, black leggings hugging her almost bony legs.  
Shooting Star caught Bill watching them and grabbed his wrist. He shuddered internally, cursing her to every Hell, as she pulled him over. “Girls, this is Dipper’s new _boyfriend_ , Bill!” she announced, making the chubby one squeal and the scrawny, bird-like one titter.  
“Bill, this is Rixor and Sage, my best friends.” Shooting Star introduced the brown-haired one, then her slim buddy, and they both grinned at him. _I thought the fat monster and the pervert were her ‘best friends._ Before they could begin bombarding him with annoying, high-pitched voices, Pine Tree yet again saved the day. Bill found himself smiling actual smiles only when the kid was around, not his stupid sister.  
“Move along, you guys,” he snapped, but his tone hinted at playfulness. “We have customers, you know.”  
“I’ll escort them outside,” Shooting Star said in a gruff, manly voice as she saluted. _What are you supposed to be, a gay security guard?_ Then she brought them out of the gift shop through the front entrance.  
Bill headed back to Pine Tree’s side, again sticking to it. “I hate girls,” he said bluntly. “Keep them away from me.”  
The brunette blinked. His tense, irritated countenance weakened briefly. “Oh. So you’re…?”  
“Gay? No. I’m a demon. Demons don’t take interest in anyone.” _Hideous humans do. You’re a human now,_ that bitchy voice murmured in the back of his mind. His eyebrow twitched, but he grinned. “You look nice enough to eat, though.”  
Pine Tree stared at him. Steadily, his neck began turning red, and he turned his attention back to the cash register.  
“Whoa, kid, you okay?” Bill jabbed at the flushed skin, giggling, feeling its warmth, but Pine Tree smacked his hand away.  
“I’m fine,” he answered. “Go find Mabel. Ask her how to take the trash out. I’m trying to work.”  
_You told me to follow you._ Bill nodded anyway, holding his tongue, lips still twisted in amusement. He strolled out from behind the counter and grinned at anyone who passed him.  
_What an interesting reaction._ Pine Tree’s neck had been warm to the touch, not human temperature, but hotter than that; it made Bill’s fingers heat up. He filed the thought away in his bottomless mind for later brooding and went outside in search of Shooting Star. 

 

Dipper was annoyed. Vexed. Irritated.  
Stressed.  
Demons, work, bills, due-dates, siblings, family matters… he was done.  
_Dinner. Dinner and bed._ Mabel was cooking tonight. She was making macaroni and cheese, fresh from their pre-made boxes. It didn’t sound appetizing, but he needed to eat.  
While he waited for the processed cheese-noodles to be ready, Dipper paid the bills.  
With Bill breathing on his neck and watching.  
“Do you mind?” the brunette gritted out. “Not at all,” came the snobby reply from over his head. Before Dipper could whip around and strangle the bastard, though, Mabel began shrieking that dinner was made. _Even she is starting to sound annoying…_  
Dipper shoved himself away from his desk roughly, slamming into Bill’s chest with the back of his chair. Then he stood and went downstairs while the demon cursed and laughed and fell.  
The brunette sat on the counter, seeing as Mabel was already at the table, and Dipper didn’t trust Bill standing and holding food at the same time. When the demon came downstairs, he contently dropped into the empty chair across from the older twin. _Do I need to buy another chair?_  
“So, Pine Tree,” Bill started, “You seem a little low on money.” Mabel’s face screwed up, Dipper noted; she knew his lack of money was a sensitive conversation topic. He’d told her that often.  
“I am,” Dipper replied coolly. He put his bowl of macaroni down beside himself.  
“I could help pay _bills_ , if you’d like.” The blonde grinned at him from his seat. Dipper could almost hear the ‘for a price’ added on.  
“I’m fine.” He slid off the counter and grabbed a plastic cup from the pantry; they were just stacked up in random places around the kitchen. He filled it with water from the tap.  
“Alright, then. Princess, how’s your day been?” Dipper tuned the two energetic members of the household out as Mabel began hyperly blabbering about Pacifica and her two newest couple of friends, Rixor and Lylus. Candy and Grenda had grown apart, and though the three kept in touch, they weren’t close.  
Dipper, on the other hand, e-mailed his author buddy occasionally and hooked up with the girls in the local pub that had a thing for ‘lumberjacks’ when they were drunk enough.  
After about ten minutes of brooding over the fact that he had no friends, Dipper cleared his throat.  
“Bedtime,” he told them. He was tired, and he didn’t want his sister being possessed if he went to bed first. Mabel complied grouchily, but Bill stayed glued to his seat.  
They stared at each other, Bill grinning, Dipper glaring daggers.  
“It’s time for bed, Bill.”  
“For you, maybe.”  
“For all of us. Tomorrow is Friday. Busy day.”  
A laugh. “It’s not like I work.”  
Dipper’s frown deepened. “You’re going to.”  
“What if I don’t want to?”  
“Then the deal will be off, and you can leave and never come back.”  
Bill’s shit-eating grin nearly split his head in two with its intensity. “I have gold, Pine Tree. You don’t need to work. And you don’t have to be so rude.”  
“I know you won’t give me any money just to be nice.”  
“Then let’s _strike a deal._ ”  
While Bill had been a human, his voice had lost its echoing, demon flare. It briefly returned when he said the word ‘deal’.  
Dipper shook his head. “I have nothing to give,” he said calmly.  
“How about your bed?”  
“I _need_ that bed, Bill. I have a bad back.”  
The demon shrugged and got onto his feet. “Fine. I’ll be upstairs.” He walked out of the kitchen with swaying hips, as if he were a puma. Dipper noticed his yellow-and-black attire as he retreated up the steps in the living room. _Of course._  
The brunette didn’t bother saving that night’s dinner; he threw it all away. Then he scrubbed the used pot clean, grabbed a slice of cold leftover pizza out of the fridge, and went to his study.  
By the time Dipper was done writing out checks and paying bills, it was almost eleven. Dinner had been finished over an hour ago (they usually had late meals). He sighed and went to his room, this time checking the bed for any unwanted pests beneath the covers. Upon finding none, he slid under the duvet and got into a comfortable position.  
Before closing his eyes, however, he remembered something important, and whispered into the darkness. “Bill?”  
“Yeah?”  
“Oh.” He hadn’t expected an answer. He’d imagined the demon escaping through the window and going to kill mythical creatures and feast upon them. “Where are you?”  
“On the floor, trying to sleep.”  
“The floor?”  
“Yeah, kid, the floor. Where else?” Dipper heard a slight shuffling noise at the foot of his bed, and turned the lamp on. Bill was sitting up on the floor, shirtless from as far as the brunette could see. _Probably naked._  
“Aren’t you uncomfortable?” Dipper asked. He’d walked right into the demon’s trap, knowing Bill was just going to snobbily say that Dipper’d put him there.  
“Whatever.” The blonde fell again with a thud. “If you care so much, take me into your arms and _let me sleep somewhere nice._ ”  
Dipper scrunched up his nose at the whole ‘take me into your arms’ bit. But… _If he’s well-rested, I can force him to work harder. Maybe if I slept on the floor…?_ He shook his head internally. _I have a bad back._  
“Come up here.”  
Bill stood sharply and dove onto the mattress, thankfully wearing Dipper’s boxers- but nothing else.  
Dipper sighed, upset with himself for caving in so easily, and rolled onto his side so he was facing away from the giggling monster beside him. He reached over and turned the lamp off, then scooted as far away from Bill as he could. 

 

Later that night, when he woke with an odd feeling, he found that Bill was under the duvet with his bony front pressed to Dipper’s back, one leg strewn over the brunette’s waist.  
And Dipper, once again, did not sleep that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for any bad grammar or plot holes... I wrote this chapter, like, just now because I went hiking all day today and didn't want to update too late.  
>  ALSO!!! I will not be updating at all this weekend. I'm going camping. I am so, so sorry!


	6. Guiltily

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wrote all of this in a few hours, from around two to now, so I apologize for the quality. I really just wanted to update!  
> There's a little bit of pleasuring oneself in this chapter. I've never written smut before, so please be gentle... :> I know the story is going by slowly, but I'm hoping to get some angst in there somewhere.

Bill woke with a fuzzy mind, drool pooling on the pillow beneath his head. He felt wonderfully relaxed and ache-free. _What…? Oh, right- bed._  
The demon sat up and tossed the bed’s thick blanket off of himself. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then wiped his hand on the already soiled pillowcase. Pine Tree was gone.  
A smile tugged at his lips. _How nice of him, to let me sleep in his bed._ Bill slid out off the mattress and walked straight to the bathroom. Yesterday, Pine Tree had explained that a pressure in his abdomen was him having to piss. He’d been holding it since he got this new body.  
Bill opened the bathroom door. It was hot inside, steam clouding the mirrors and pouring from behind the shower curtains. He shrugged and went to close the door behind himself, and it squeaked loudly on its hinges.  
“Who’s there?”  
The blonde paused, turning his head to the bathtub. “Me,” he answered.  
“Bill?! Dude, get out of the--” Pine Tree’s head popped out from behind the curtains, skin red and dripping, hair matted to his face. “Get out!”  
Bill blinked at the no longer fluffy hair and tan features, but shook it off. “Why? I have to piss.”  
“Bill- when someone is in the bathroom without their pants on, no one else is allowed in. Got it?”  
The demon nodded. Sometimes, his face would hurt when he smiled too widely. This was one of those times. “Got it.” He left the bathroom and went downstairs. He used the bathroom there, feeling much better, and went into the living room. Shooting Star was drinking something murky and brown in the kitchen. When she saw him, she started.  
“Bill!” she cried. _They sure do say my name a lot._ “You’re not wearing any clothes!”  
He furrowed his brow and looked down; she was right. He was just in Pine Tree’s boxers. “Oh,” he said. “Yeah. I’m still tired from last night. Sorry.”  
“But you barely did anyth…” The she-kid’s startled expression melted into one of mischief. “Ah, I see. Well, you’d better hurry and get dressed.” _Oh. She thinks we did that gross thing humans do._  
Bill nodded at her, smile never once fading, and went _back_ upstairs to Pine Tree’s room. The kid was fixing Stan’s old blazer in the mirror of the bathroom when Bill leaned in the doorway to check.  
Bill closed the bedroom door and changed out of the boxers he had on. When he was sliding new ones up his thin, bruised legs, Pine Tree suddenly came in.  
And then went back out, face beet-red.  
“We’re just bumping into each other all day today, aren’t we?” the blonde called through the slammed door, laughing. “You can come in. I’m not nude.”  
Warily, the wooden plank was pushed open, and the brunette stepped inside. “I-I forgot my hat,” he stammered, stiffly walking to the wardrobe and grabbing the crimson cap.  
“That’s fine,” Bill snorted. _So weird now. What’s got his panties in a bunch?_ He looked around in the closet for anything to wear, and came up with a purple tee and black jeans. As he put them on, Pine Tree exited the room. The demon’s mouth quivered in pain from his smile. 

 

Dipper gave four tours on Friday. Between them, he taught Bill how to wash pots and pans, sweep the floor(poorly), and talk to strangers nicely _all the time._  
“Keep your rude words in your head,” he snapped at the chuckling monster as a woman led her crying husband out of the building. “Or you can’t stay here.”  
He made sure Bill paid close attention during tours as well. “You’ll be giving tours when Mabel leaves. That’s in two days.” “Why don’t you just keep doing it?” “Someone has to man the cash register. I don’t trust you with that yet.”  
Bill luckily didn’t seem to remember what position he’d trapped Dipper in the night before. Dipper, on the other hand, was mentally scarred. _I spooned with a dream demon._ His face felt hot, and he didn’t know why. He really didn’t have feelings for Bill.  
The day passed by lamely, with little thought on the topic and little tips and little cash brought in via gift shop. They had enough money to buy Bill a few cheap outfits thanks to the expensive cost for touring, but not much else. Dipper decided not to tell the blonde that in hopes of saving up money. _He can just keep wearing my old high school clothes._  
“I’m going to spend the night at Pacifica’s,” Mabel told him as they both ate leftover spaghetti and pizza in the kitchen. Bill was on the couch in the living room, watching television like he’d never seen anything like it before.  
“Fun,” Dipper replied. He laughed when she sucked up a noodle like in the cartoons, but inwardly felt awkward talking about the bleach-blonde woman. “Did you want to do anything when you get back? We’ve only got a couple more days till you have to go home.”  
His twin shrugged. “We could see a movie, or go to the pool. Or we could stay home and force Bill to eat.” She pointed at Dipper with her plastic fork. “I haven’t seen him put anything in his mouth since he got here!” Her determined look became sly. “Have you?”  
_Is that a sex joke…?_ Dipper sternly shook his head. “Not a thing. Let’s feed him right now. Bill!” he shouted. He didn’t want to hear any more bj jokes.  
The demon walked into the kitchen, briefly sliding in the socks he’d stolen. “What’s up?” His shit-eating grin already worsened Dipper’s mood. _I’m sure a baby cries whenever he laughs._  
“Come eat something.” Dipper gestured to the microwaved food before them. Bill’s nose scrunched up. “I’m not hungry,” he said.  
“Too bad. Take something, or sleep outside.” The blonde sighed deeply and took the smallest slice of pizza, settling on his knees in front of the table. He was around six feet tall, so it almost looked like he was sitting when he took his first bite of food.  
Mabel laughed when he devoured it in several bites afterwards.  
“That’s _crazy_ ,” he exclaimed, snatching another and forcing it down his windpipe. “This is so--” Dipper winced when he choked but kept shoveling pasta and bread into his mouth. Mabel went and got him a cup of water.  
The majority of everything was either gone or splattered all over Bill’s face. “Good?” Dipper asked cautiously. _He’s probably going to get sick later._ The blonde nodded tiredly, moaning and curling up on the floor. “Too much of a good thing can make it bad,” Mabel chirped.  
The twins talked aimlessly for about ten more minutes till the demon passed out.  
Mabel helped Dipper bring the unconscious Bill upstairs and toss him onto her airbed. “Are you sure you’re okay with him sleeping here?” he asked her as she packed some clothes into a bag. She nodded. “I don’t see why he can’t just sleep with you,” she replied. “You _are_ an item, after all.”  
_Denying it now will only make things worse._ “I don’t want him throwing up on my bed. Yours can be hosed off if he gets sick here.” Mabel laughed and swung the little bag over her shoulder.  
“Whatever works,” she said. They went downstairs together and she kissed him on the forehead. “Let Hamlet out tonight,” she instructed before she opened the door. “Love you.” “Love you too.”  
When she was gone, Dipper went to his room. _Screw Hamlet._ He shut the door firmly and took his clothes off till he was left in boxers, then got into bed. He wasn’t tired, but relaxing felt nice.  
Dipper got his laptop from under his bed and browsed the internet for around twenty minutes. He looked through his history for something interesting to read or examine again, but he hadn’t used his laptop often. He mainly found his searches from today and porn from a few months ago.  
He looked over at the bedroom door slowly before clicking on the first porn link that seemed acceptable. _Haven’t done this in a while._  
Dipper felt more cautious than he usually did as his hand slipped beneath the duvet and wrapped warily around himself. Bill could walk in whenever. _That’s a turn-off._ The brunette forced his mind to blank as he watched the video. A busty girl showed herself off on screen, laughing airily as she undressed. She began to touch herself, and Dipper followed suit, but she didn’t really spark his interest. He went to the recommended video selection below her wiggling form.  
_I’m straight,_ he told himself as he clicked on a feminine-looking man being dominated by someone more muscular than him.  
The girly-looking one squealed quietly through the speakers of Dipper’s laptop, his thick blonde hair bouncing with each thrust of his partner’s hips. _I’m straight._ Dipper’s mocha eyes focused on the panting boy’s features, his hand gaining speed where it was closed around his member. He matched his rhythm to the pumping of the duo on his screen, feeling his skin heat up. He’d forgotten lotion, but pre-cum was making his movements easier.  
_Straight._ He let out a soft noise as the 2D blonde gasped and came into his partner’s hand, imagining himself hovering over that tiny, thin body.  
_Straight…_ Dipper mind wandered from pretty golden-haired man to an even prettier blonde male, eyes gold and teeth a little too sharp, his thumb sliding over the head of his own length.  
Several minutes later, Dipper spilled his release into his tightened grip, exhaling shakily.  
As his arousal-hazed mind cleared, he snapped back into reality. He cleared his history and shut his laptop off, spine ramrod straight. _Why would I even like that?_ He thought back to how the cum-dripping blonde grinned darkly into the camera after every shoot, his thin frame shaking with ecstasy and heavy breathing.  
_He looked…_ Dipper grabbed a tissue from the bedside table, cleaning himself up and tossing the balled-up paper into the trash in the corner of the room. _Like Bill._  
He shook his head, disgusted. It was like when Mabel had been sexually confused and tried to make Dipper… do things… he wasn’t comfortable with. He’d helped her sort herself out. _I’m confused and admittedly lonely. It’ll pass._  
Now uncomfortable and worried that Bill might read his mind and ask why he jerked off to someone that looked like the demon, Dipper hurried to the bathroom to reapply deodorant to his sweaty armpits. 

 

Bill sat on some squishy plastic mattress, swinging his legs around in the air. He didn’t know how he got there, but he was too focused on trying to get a damn pig off of his chest to care. Whenever he threw it onto the floor, it kept jumping back up, stepping all over his ribcage and curling up there, making Bill struggle to breathe.  
He groaned and pushed it off a final time before leaving the room via staircase, pig on his heels. _Was that the attic?_ He didn’t want the attic. He wanted Pine Tree’s awesome bed. It felt wonderful and warm.  
“Kid?” he called as he walked down the hall of the upper floor. He was right; it was the attic. He’d gotten a hint from the cluttered desk and the window seat, but wanted to be sure.  
There was a few loud noises from the bathroom, then a choppy “I-I’ll be right out!” before the brunette stumbled through the closed door. His hair was messy and his skin was red all over, like his neck had been that one time. He wore his underwear and nothing else, hanging out of the doorway.  
Bill grinned at Pine Tree’s frazzled state. “Wow, Pine Tree,” he exclaimed, walking over. “Were you attacked by a gargoyle?”  
“Close enough,” the human answered stiffly, heading back to his bedroom. The pig snorted at him and took deep inhales of his stronger musk before struggling back upstairs. Pine Tree smelled like something familiar but distant; pleasant but not a scent Bill’d want on himself. A warm, sweaty smell.  
Bill shrugged and followed, dismissing the odor as a human thing, watching Pine Tree put a large flat black thing under his bed. The demon tilted his head. “What’s that?”  
“A laptop.”  
“A what?”  
“It’s powered by electricity. It’s like newspaper, but you can read about old things that happened too, and it also works as a phone…” Pine Tree stopped when Bill just stared. They made eye contact but the brunette soon looked away, visibly flustered.  
Bill furrowed his brow, lost, but kept smiling. _He’s acting weird._ “What time is it?” he asked instead of confronting the other. He was tired, despite having taken a nap, and didn’t want to deal with a hormonal boy-human.  
Pine Tree relaxed slightly at the new topic, moving to grab a small object similar to the one Shooting Star had and was constantly fiddling with. “It’s almost twelve,” he said as he put it back on the bedside table. “Time to sleep. Go back upstairs.”  
Bill moaned and complained but let Pine Tree force him into the attic, grinning while he shouted that he wanted the nice bed. He joined the pig, which was curled up at the foot of the plastic mattress, and curled up with the wool blanket left on top of it. Pine Tree said nothing, and hastily went back down the steps.  
After thirty minutes of tossing and turning, Bill snuck back onto the second floor, tip-toeing into Pine Tree’s room. He wriggled under the warm duvet and pressed his belly into the sleeping boy’s back. Muscles and sturdy shoulder blades flexed against Bill’s front as he slid his leg around both of Pine Tree’s. _He’s strong. From a sapling to an oak._  
He buried his face in the hair curling down the brunette’s neck, smelling the manly, earthy scent of the human as he tossed a bony arm over Pine Tree’s midsection.  
And he fell asleep, not thinking even once about how awkward the other male was going to feel in the morning.


	7. Royalty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing... my oc!  
>  I'm sorry that my chapters have been so short... I just want to update fast, so I'm writing fast, and I'm super tired... Please enjoy anyway, and feel free to correct me if you think anything seems out of place or wrong!

The Mindscape was different without Bill around, but Dipper enjoyed the change. _Sleep is now my only escape from reality. Thank god._ He was relieved that the demon couldn’t plague his thoughts, especially after what he’d seen online.  
Dipper ran his hand along the dirty tire that dangled from a rope, connected to an awkwardly shaped pine tree with an eye carved into its trunk. The rope was split up and its braid was mangled, and when he tugged at it, the tire dropped, taking half the rope with it. He focused on his surroundings, wiping his palm off on his shirt. Dipper was fully clothed in the Mindscape.  
He was in the suburbs, standing outside his old house that he lived in when he was a kid. His parents were on the porch outside, talking quietly. If Dipper confronted them, they hissed at him, and continued speaking to each other. Whatever they were saying, they said backwards. Dipper turned away and left his yard. He wasn’t interested in what they had to tell if they were going to be rude.  
Dipper kept himself calm in his dreams, touring the area alone and trying to talk to whatever seemed alive. The grayscale world shifted to a forest around a hundred yards away from his little house. He went into the trees, touching them as he passed. His tan skin seemed to glow compared to their gray-black bark.  
Other than the twig snapping beneath Dipper’s weight, the forest was silent. No wind, no far-off music, no birds, even. Dipper expected a hideous monster to attack him at any moment. His mind was never this calm.  
After about five more minutes of tranquil wandering, Dipper called out. “Hello?” he tried. His voice echoed softly. “If anyone is in the woods, can they please give me a sign?”  
A huge animal burst from the weeds and bushes in front of Dipper, making him jerk and leap to the side. It galloped past him, trumpeting and whipping its two heads around wildly. It disappeared behind a thicket of trees a moment later.  
_Dreams. Just dreams. No freaking out._ Dipper got up, brushing himself off. Something was there, then, sending an imaginary animal to him.  
“Two-headed deer,” he mused. Then he raised his voice again, following the heavy tracks the beast left. “Thank you for the sign!” he shouted into the black-and-white woods. “May I speak to you?”  
The branches of the irregularly large trees overhead vibrated in response, but nothing spoke. Dipper settled on following the tracks, then; he wasn’t going to upset something by pressing it to talk when it could enter his personal Mindscape and send him things he hadn’t thought up.  
A coppery smell filled Dipper’s nostrils. He came onto a clearing ringed by trees, their trunks ramrod straight and limbless. Each one had three eyes engraved into them, staring into the center of the clearing. The deer was there, viciously ripped apart, entrails spilling from its gaping mouths and split-open belly, legs twisted horribly and eyes oozing where they’d been slashed at. The blood was colored, but the rest was still black and white.  
Dipper narrowed his eyes with a revolted expression, willing it to leave, and the deer resurrected, good as new. It stood hurriedly and pranced out of the opening, which Dipper entered.  
“Don’t do that, please,” he said to nothing. “That’s not very nice.” _It’s a dream. You can’t be hurt. Just stay calm._  
**You’re no fun.**  
He couldn’t describe what that voice sounded like; neither a man’s nor a woman’s, ringing but soft as velvet, smooth as cream and thick as honey, and _dangerous._ Dipper looked around, suddenly at attention, searching for the voice’s source.  
“Show yourself,” he said. “I mean- I’d like to meet you. Please. Show yourself.”  
**Since you asked so nicely.** The voice dripped with venom.  
A small child dropped from the canopy of leaves overhead, landing smoothly upon its feet. It had feminine and boyish features, no curves but no muscle, and blank white eyes. Its hair was a dirty white-yellowish color, curly and drooping into its giddy face, and its skin was pale as snow. Its teeth were yellowish and brown. It had bright azure and red earrings on both ears, and check marks and x’s on both of its cheeks. A tight collar with azure spikes was coiled around its neck. It sported no shoes or socks, and wore a too-big red jacket, sleeves rolled up. It had a black shirt and ripped khakis, and was wringing its gloved hands excitedly.  
Dipper blinked down at it. He couldn’t tell if it was a boy or a girl.  
“I am nothing,” it said in that odd voice. “Labels are rude. You may call me a boy, though. I am a king.” _How did he…?_ “I am more intelligent than I seem, boy.”  
“Okay,” Dipper said slowly. “I’m Dipper Pines. What’s your name?”  
“It does not matter.” The child laughed, and the environment shuddered and stretched, as if trying to get away from the child. “You have made demonic deals before. I smell it. You know Bill Cipher, correct?”  
Dipper’s face contorted. “I have… and I do,” he admitted. “Sadly.”  
“Mm. I am like him,” the white-haired figure yawned quietly, “But not. Demons are a waste of energy. I am no demon. I am a king.”  
He didn’t look like royalty. “Yeah, you told me you were a king a moment ago,” Dipper replied. His curiosity flared. “Are you a ghost? An old king no one knows about?”  
The other seemed amused by him. “No,” he said. “I am the King of Chaos.” He bowed deeply, folding an arm over his midsection, and the limb twisted. It wrapped around his torso several times. When he rose again and went back to staring up at Dipper, his arm snapped back into place like a rubber band.  
Dipper blinked again. “Oh.” He bowed as well, stumbling a slight. “It’s an honor to meet you, Your Majesty.” He didn’t know if a ‘king of chaos’ was even a thing, but if the kid could break into his head, he was going to be cautious.  
“A pleasure,” answered the king.  
“May I ask… why you’re here?” Dipper tried.  
The king’s smile never twitched or faded. “I am simply visiting you and your little town,” he drawled, producing a white rose stained with red. He examined it with his white eyes before it disappeared. “Do you need help with anything?” he asked suddenly.  
Dipper froze up. _Help?_ His countenance went from cautious to aggressive. “No,” he hissed. “I’m tired of deals. Tired of demons. No.”  
“I just told you I’m no demon,” the king said, eyes squinting with amusement. “I help humans because it’s fun. You’re practically a breeding ground for trouble and demons, so I thought, ‘why not help this poor mortal’?” He summoned a royal sceptre, twirling it as Bill would his glowing cane.  
“So what do you need help with, Dipper Pines? Free of charge, any problem solved.”  
Dipper stared, heedful of the being before him. He’d met enough strong creatures to believe the king could help, but was there a price or not?  
“I cannot lie, child,” the king purred. He leaned on his sceptre. “What do you need solved?”  
The brunette furrowed his brow and thought for a moment. “Anything?” he asked softly. “World hunger? World peace? Opening a pickle jar? Anything?”  
“Anything,” the king agreed. “Any problem gone.”  
“I want to be able to pay for anything I want or need,” Dipper said immediately. It sounded greedy, but he wanted that. He didn’t think of anything else. Bills and food. Bills and food.  
“Alright,” the king laughed. He snapped his fingers and Dipper felt a weight lift from his shoulders.  
Bills and food, gone. Bills and food.  
Bills and food.  
Bills.  
_Bill._  
He could’ve gotten rid of Bill! The brunette smacked himself in the face, groaning loudly. How stupid could he get?  
“The deed is done,” laughed the king. He must’ve known what Dipper was thinking from the smug look on his face.  
“You are due to wake up in five minutes,” he continued. Dipper sighed; he didn’t feel like he’d slept at all. “So I will help you _twice_ by telling you someone you know is going to die. Someone close to you. Someone you will love forever, even after they’re gone. You’ll never move on.”  
Dipper’s mouth twitched. Suddenly, he was worried. _He said he can’t lie._ “Who?” he asked. “Is it Stan? My parents? Is it… oh god, is it Mabel?” _Please, not Mabel,_ he thought. He was beginning to panic. _She’s my other half._  
“I can’t tell you who, exactly,” the king poorly explained. “I just want you to brace yourself.” He smiled. His canines were like blades, and the rest of his rotten teeth were crooked. Then he dusted his khakis off.  
“Well, you’re due to wake up any moment now,” he said. He went from somber to smiley. “Bill is in your bed. You both have morning wood and he’s going to ask you about it. Head straight to the bathroom.” Dipper calmed slightly at the change of conversation.  
He reached up, stretching to pat Dipper’s shoulder. The nameless king felt so cold he burned Dipper, who yelped and flinched when the pat turned into a tight grip. Sharkish teeth glinted when the king smiled. “Farewell, Dipper Pines. I will see you soon.” 

 

Bill watched Pine Tree jump up and yank away from his skinny limbs, tumbling out of bed. The brunette looked down at himself, groaned, and ran from the room. He didn’t look at Bill once, who laughed softly when the other was out of sight, and got up himself.  
Bill sniffed and stared down at the tent in his boxers. “Pine Tree,” he called, almost immediately. He slid his underwear off and sat on the bed again, prodding at his erect member. _”Pine Tree!”_  
The boy came in slowly after a few more shouts, head hanging and eyes focused anywhere else but on Bill. “What.”  
“There’s something wrong.” The demon gestured to his lower half pointedly. “What do I do?”  
Pine Tree looked at him for a second before sharply turning away again. “It…” He seemed to struggle with his words. “You-” “What’s this?”  
Bill stalked over to the other, nude as his name day, and smacked his palm down on the fresh handprint covering his shoulder. Pine Tree winced and stumbled backwards, away from the naked demon.  
“Nothing,” he said. He went to his dresser and quickly pulled a blue polo shirt with thick white and thin black stripes on, followed by some khaki shorts. Bill glared daggers into his back. _Lying to me? That dick._  
Pine Tree kept talking as he dressed. “That thing you’re dealing with,” he waved to Bill’s groin, “is called ‘morning wood’. It-- softens up eventually. Don’t touch it.” He escaped the room before Bill could confront him about the print on his arm.  
The demon grunted his disapproval and promised himself that he would investigate later as he found a similar outfit to Pine Tree’s; plain cargo shorts and a red polo. _No one lies to me._  
He brushed it aside for now and joined the twin on the couch. “Don’t we work today?” he asked.  
Pine Tree shook his head. “Nope. We’re going to relax today.” He turned the television on, and fell silent. A tall man with sharp cheekbones and curly black hair was on-screen, running down a dark alley in the rain, a short blonde man in a jumper on his heels.  
Bill was still fascinated by television; it was one of the better things humans had come up with. The pig from the night before wiggled onto the couch between them and dropped there so suddenly Bill thought it had a heart attack and died. But it was breathing.  
They watched the two men solve a crime for about an hour and a half before Pine Tree got up and headed for the kitchen, snapping Bill out of his daze. “Where’re you going, Pine Tree?” he asked loudly.  
“We’re going out to eat for breakfast,” came the equally loud reply. Pine Tree came back and shut the TV off, gesturing for Bill to stand. They went to the back door in the kitchen.  
Bill pulled some random sneakers on. “Sounds nice,” he said. _I do like food now._  
“Yeah.” Pine Tree brought them outside. It was nice; soft wind and warm sun. Bill stared at the treeline as they got into the brunette’s truck, spotting a flicker of white. Before he could address it, the driver cut him off and made him squeal in delight by saying: “And then we’re going clothes shopping for you.”


	8. Explore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A quick doodle of Bill: http://misterdellis.tumblr.com/image/125285099115  
> A quick doodle of the king: http://misterdellis.tumblr.com/image/125229094965  
> I apologize for updating late! This website was down last night... Enjoy anyways! (Sorry if the links don't work, also!)

Dipper hung outside a salon on a bench, balancing several bags of flamboyant clothes on his knees. He felt sick from eating too much during breakfast, even though it was two in the afternoon and they’d eaten at nine.  
That king he met kept his word; Dipper could buy anything he wanted. He could reach into his wallet and find the perfect amount of money he needed for whatever he desired. The brunette didn’t understand how that was possible, but he definitely wasn’t going to complain-- Bill didn’t either, not bothering to ask once about where all this money came from.  
But if the king kept his word then, that meant his foretelling of someone close to Dipper dying might be true.  
As he mulled over this, Bill came out of the salon. He posed for Dipper, grinning widely and showing off his new golden pyramid earrings. His blonde bangs were pushed out of his eye, but said area was shielded by a triangular eyepatch. He looked cleaner than before- probably because he’d gotten his hair washed by a professional inside.  
“How do I look?” the demon asked, turning in a circle with his arms spread out.  
“Like a gay princess,” Dipper answered. He gathered the shopping bags while Bill laughed and went to the truck.  
In Dipper’s Tacoma, Bill wouldn’t shut his mouth. He went on and on about the hair stylist that he’d befriended and he couldn’t stop talking about that _one guy_ that looked _exactly_ like Dipper. The brunette was about to tune him out when the blonde blankly asked, “So, what happened to your arm?”  
Dipper stiffened for a moment. There was seriously no excuse for a burn in the shape of a small handprint on his shoulder. “I’m not sure, exactly,” he decided to say. He honestly didn’t know, in a sense; he’d only met the king in his dream, not in reality. But he decided to add a little lie, in case Bill pushed on. “It’s been there for a while. Haven’t you seen it?”  
The demon shook his head. “I never noticed it,” Bill replied. _Okay. He bought it._ He rolled the window down, like Dipper had taught him on their way to Greasy’s earlier that day, and stuck his hand out, fingers spread. “You don’t know what happened at all?”  
Dipper shrugged. “No.” He kept driving and dodging questions. He didn’t feel like heading back to the Shack, since he didn’t even have to work anymore.  
They eventually ended up at the edge of town. “Can you leave Gravity Falls?” Dipper questioned. The demon snapped out of his daze and pulled his hand back into the car when the wind stopped. “Of course,” he said. “I’m not trapped here or anything.”  
The Tacoma pulled out of Gravity Falls and down the short road ahead.  
“What’re we doing?” Dipper looked over at the curious blonde staring back at him. His shoulders lifted and fell again. “Going on an adventure,” the human said. 

It took around forty agonizingly annoying demon-infested minutes before they ended up in Portland. Dipper got out of the car and fiddled with the parking meter in front of his vehicle until he was sure no one could tow his truck. Stan had taught him how to cheat, and even with unlimited money, Dipper was determined to be like his Grunkle, especially while running the Shack.  
He turned around and saw Bill staring at him, grinning smugly. “Not as much of a hero as you were, mm, Pine Tree?” Dipper made to retort but the demon was already striding down the sidewalk.  
“So, are we going shopping some more?” Bill asked after the brunette had caught up.  
“Hell no,” Dipper said. “We’re just going to explore.”  
And that was what they did.  
They went to some parks, where Bill scared parents and children by diving around in the bushes and yelling at a family of raccoons in a foreign language. His excuse was that he’d never been in a forest that wasn’t Gravity Falls’. Dipper decided to give him his extra cell phone and explained how to use it before the began travelling again, so if he got in trouble or lost, they could contact each other.  
Then they walked to a pet store. Bill was hooked on buying or even stealing an admittedly lovely borzoi puppy. He begged and begged and _begged_ so much that Dipper, defeated, said they _might_ come back later to see it again. When Bill didn’t budge, Dipper, now smiling, also promised him breakfast for dinner at Greasy’s on their way home. The demon stroked his choice dog’s fur once more before they left the shop.  
The last thing the duo did was visit several small bars so that Bill could taste a wide range of alcohol. By then, it was dark out. “My favorite’s always been a margarita,” the blonde confessed as he sipped a bottle of beer. “But this is also very good.” Dipper smiled against the rim of his expensive glass of wine, which Bill had forced him to try.  
Their longest stop was at The Whiskey Bar. Strobe lights and laser shows blinded Dipper crazily, so much so that he had to sit down.  
Bill, on the other hand, was on the dance floor, a drink in both hands. Dipper watched as girls pulled at the demon’s bright clothing- he’d changed into a neon yellow tee and black jeans in the car, moving around so wildly they nearly had to pull over so they didn’t crash- and obviously gay men rutted up against him.  
Dipper’s mouth twitched in annoyance. _How is he more popular than I am when he’s only been alive for around a week?_  
“Is he yours? Must hurt to see your guy ditch you.” Dipper turned and faced the smiling bartender. She was a Latina, shiny, wavy black hair falling down her back and tucked behind her ears to keep her brown eyes in full-view. Her pastel blue top was partially hidden by a black button-up vest. Whatever was below her midsection was out of sight, concealed by the counter.  
She was _very_ attractive.  
“No- no,” Dipper said. “He’s-- a colleague. I’m straight.” _Not when you’re watching gay porn_ , spat his conscience. He ignored it to return her smile.  
“Oh, I’m sorry,” said the bartender. Her accent was heavy. “Well, then. What’s your name?”  
“Uhm- people call me Dipper.” Her smile grew; not a judgmental grin, but an interested one. He continued, content with her acceptance: “What’s yours?”  
“Valentina,” the bartender answered with a purr. “How did you end up here?”  
Dipper looked around to make sure there were others making drinks and taking orders. He didn’t want to be rejected if he asked her to come home with him because she had to stay and work. “Just made a lot of money,” he told her, “so I went on a drive and visited a few bars.”  
Valentina laughed softly. She leaned over the counter, her large breasts pressing into its surface, cleavage noticeable. “Lucky you. How’s The Whiskey Bar working out so far? Your _type_ of place?”  
_Wow, okay. Now or never, then._ “Actually…” Dipper glanced towards the exit, shifting in his seat. “I prefer less strobe lights. And places more quiet. Places more private.”  
The bartender got the hint. Her grin grew. “I know a place. I can leave work right now, if you’d like to go.” She straightened up, tossing her hair over her shoulder. Dipper followed suite with a quick nod, matching her smile again.  
They headed for the door. _Still straight,_ celebrated the brunette. _Still into chicks. Screw you, gay porn. I win._ Dipper was two steps away from freedom and fresh air and a great one-night-stand.  
A hand grabbed his burnt shoulder so tightly and suddenly he winced. When he turned around, Bill was glaring down at him.  
“Where are you going?” the demon demanded sharply, voice slurred from the excessive drinking that had occurred throughout the day. Dipper scowled, pulling his hand away. He didn’t want to openly say he was going to have sex with a stranger, or explain why people do that, or explain sex, or explain anything, really.  
Valentina spoke up. “He’s coming home with me, kid,” she said, stepping between them. She had a short skirt and heels on, Dipper noticed. “I hope you were the one that drove here, because you’re leaving alone, and you’ll need a ride.”  
Dipper held in a laugh at Bill’s furious expression. “ _First off,_ ” hissed the demon. “Fuck you, _slut_. You’re not just goin’a fuckin’ steal _my_ Pine Tree! Thieving bitch.” He latched onto a gaping and profusely apologizing Dipper, pulling him away from Valentina. Away from relief and brief sexual confusion.  
The bartender scoffed. “Dipper,” she said, turning back to the door. “Let’s go.”  
Dipper made to pull away from Bill, but the blonde wouldn’t let go. Instead, he held on tighter. “You can’t just leave me, Pine Tree,” exclaimed he. “We were just getting close! We’re becoming friends now!”  
The brunette twisted up his expression. “Let go of me, Bill.”  
Bill let go of his wrist- but wrapped his arms around Dipper’s shoulders instead, shaking him. Dipper nearly shouted. He didn’t want to talk to the demon. He wanted to go home with a girl. A lovely, sexy girl that Bill was ruining his chances with. “Don’t _goooo!_ ” shrieked the blonde.  
“Bill, you just yelled at a complete stranger! Again!”  
“You’re leaving me for a complete stranger!” 

 

Bill felt funny.  
His head was swimming and the music was loud and there were girls waiting for him to come back and keep dancing with him but right now he was entirely focused on his Pine Tree. Pine Tree, leaving him? The nerve! Like Hell he was gonna’ _let go_.  
“I don’t care,” was the only response Bill got. It just made him angrier.  
“You don’t _care_? _I_ care! You _can’t_ just leave!” Pine Tree didn’t answer, prying out of the demon’s clingy arms instead. He whimpered. _Why don’t I want him to go? Why does he want to go?_ “What about my dog? What about getting breakfast for dinner late, like you promised? _Pine Tree!_ ” he tried, beginning to panic.  
“Shut up, Bill,” said the human, turning away. “Just shut up.” The whore he was with smirked victoriously.  
Bill felt his weak dead little heart stutter. He heard its frantic beating in his ears and felt it in his chest and beneath his jaw. He couldn’t talk or move. Only stare. _Why am I freaking out? Why am I upset? Pine Tree… I can’t move._  
Existing for a millenia, infinite knowledge trapped behind his all-seeing eye, able to jump dimensions and destroy them as he pleased- and Bill Cipher couldn’t bring himself to reach out and grab his retreating Pine Tree.  
His Big Dipper.  
“Dipper.”  
_That_ caught the brunette’s attention. He turned around again, arms folded over his chest, lips set in a tight frown. “What?” he demanded.  
Bill twitched. Now he didn’t know what to say. _Excuses. Excuses…_ “Can I borrow your phone?”  
Pine Tree glared daggers at him but handed it over. He didn’t ask why. The woman he was with whispered something into his ear that made him roll his eyes, though.  
Bill went to Pine Tree’s contacts and pressed his thumb down on a familiar name. The phone rang softly against his ear.  
_”What’s up, bro-bro?”_  
The demon smiled. He made himself sound slightly choked. “Actually, it’s me, Bill.”  
_”Ohh. Hey! What’s up?”_  
“I know you’re probably wondering why I’m calling from your brother’s phone-” Upon saying the word ‘brother’, Pine Tree tensed. “-and I figure you’re probably busy, but…”  
_”Nah, I’m not busy. Just chillin’ at the house. I came home earlier today. But yeah, I am kinda’ curious. What’s going on? Is everything alright?”_  
_Let me finish._ “We’re at a bar,” he said shakily. “P-- _Dipper_ is leaving me here. He’s my ride, and- he’s- he’s leaving with a girl he barely knows. I don’t know what to do.”  
There was a brief pause. Both twins were silent.  
_”Is he still there?”_ Shooting Star’s voice was deathly calm.  
“Yes,” Bill answered, sounding as if he was on the verge of tears. “I stopped him and got his phone before he could go.”  
_”Let me talk to him, please.”_  
He faced Pine Tree and his slut with a winning grin, all teeth and gum, as he gave the man the mobile. Bill looked at the woman especially darkly. _I win, bitch._  
Bill waited for several minutes as Pine Tree was on the phone, watching as the brunette’s expression went from angry to sullen to meek. Then he put the electronic in his pocket.  
“That was my sister,” he told his woman. “She needs me to come home. I’m sorry.” _I’m not._  
Said woman peeled her upper lip back in a snarl. “Whatever,” she hissed. “You’re not good enough for me anyways.” Then she went to the bar and behind the counter.  
“Oh, so she works here? Coming with us would’ve gotten her fired anyways. I did her a favor.” Bill glanced over at Pine Tree, who said nothing. So he continued: “So, I was thinking we could pick up something for Shooting Star at Greasy’s during dinner--”  
“Don’t even, Bill.” The human burst through the door, stalking down the sidewalk with Bill now on his heels. He was fuming. “Were you even drunk? Were you even upset that I was leaving? Or were you just trying to ruin my night?”  
Bill sniffed. “I am drunk, and I am still upset that you were leaving. We-” “Why didn’t you let me leave? I was _so_ close to relaxing for the first time in, like, _forever._ Now Mabel thinks I’m cheating on you. She’s siding with you because she thinks we’re together- thinks I’m _cheating on you!_ ”  
They got in the car, Pine Tree slamming his door, Bill gently closing his own. “I know you would never cheat on me,” he decided to say, breezily. He was trying to get rid of the tension. They were just fine an hour ago.  
“I hope you know I would never be with you, either.”  
Bill flinched, but said nothing in response. _It’s just the alcohol that makes you feel this way._ He stared at the pet store as they passed it, plucking at his seat belt.  
The drive home was silent from then on.


	9. Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's some porn in hereee. 
> 
> Sorry I took so unbelievably long to update! I tried to insert a drawing but I just couldn't figure out how to do it. So, here's a drawingless, slightly plot-jumpy chapter.

Mabel was comforting Bill in the living room and refusing to allow Dipper out of the kitchen. “You can leave,” she hissed, “or you can wait.”   
So he waited. 

_Damn demon doesn’t even need comfort. He’s just acting…_ And pretty well, too, if Dipper was honest; by the time they were halfway home Bill was nearly in tears. _Getting an early start. Begging for attention._

Dipper sipped his cooling coffee, but it wasn’t as good as it had been when he got it from the gas station. Then, he knew Bill had watched him drink it with puffy red eyes, and it made him happy. He put the paper cup down and got up, snatching his hoodie from the back of the chair he hadn’t been in. He pulled it on, took his hat off, and went outside, onto the back porch. 

Dipper lit one of his emergency cigarettes with a stray match laying on the outer windowsill. He ruined his lungs ignorantly with a deep inhale of manmade smoke and chemicals, staring out into the woods because there were no stars. He saw shrubbery move near the treeline, but knew nothing would come near the Shack; he’d put a protective spell over the area. _I wonder if it’ll kill Bill if he becomes violent inside._

The muffled speech from the living room- they had surprisingly thin walls for a cabin- became closer and louder. Bill and Mabel were in the kitchen. There was some shuffling, some more unintelligible conversation, and then the door behind Dipper opened. Two solid feet landed on the porch. He prepared himself for Mabel’s judgemental fit and unending rage when it shut again. 

Dipper was spun around by a vaguely familiar hand. Much-too-thin arms slid around him. “I’m sorry,” said Bill. “I was jealous. I didn’t want someone else to have your attention because I’d gotten used to having it all to myself. Or, having the majority of it to myself. I--” 

The brunette threw his cigarette and wrapped his arms around the much taller demon, pushing his face into the neon yellow fabric of Bill’s shirt. “Stop talking, Bill,” he murmured. “I forgive you. Just shut up.” 

 

There was a brief silence. 

Bill destroyed it. “I’m also really drunk and I’ve been acting rudely and I’m--” Dipper laughed and pushed himself out of the embrace, face flushed. “Shut _up_ , Bill. You don’t have to recite what Mabel tells you to,” he giggled. Then he composed himself. “I’m… I’m sorry, too. I was super mean.”

The blonde smiled hesitantly in response. “Apology accepted,” he said. It was an odd thing to hear. “And, uh…”

Dipper tipped his head to one side. “What?” 

“Shooting Star is… watching,” Bill said quietly, glancing behind himself. It seemed like the first time the brunette had ever seen him nervous. Dipper looked and saw his twin grinning manically through the diamond-shaped window. 

“So?” Dipper pressed. 

“She wants me to kiss you,” finished the otherworldly demon that had plagued his mind with nightmares countless times and tried to destroy his family and take over Gravity Falls and possibly all of mankind.

_If it’s for Mabel._ “Okay.” Dipper stretched up and gently pecked Bill’s lips with his own. 

And Bill turned pink. 

Blue flames washed over them in a hurricane of cerulean, making their hair whip around and their clothes float as if they were underwater. Bill gawked at Dipper, his wide golden eye the only thing not colored blue in their tornado of surprisingly comforting heat. Dipper smiled back. “You’re on fire,” he stated nervously. He was afraid to look inside and see Mabel’s expression--

_”Why are you on fire?!”_

His sister was standing just outside the inferno, visibly terrified and brimming with wonder at the same time. Bill finally caught up with reality and spun in a wide circle; the fire twirled with him like a wedding gown. “I don’t know,” he said. “I thought I lost my magic when I left the Mindscape…” 

“Mindscape?” Mabel looked from Bill to Dipper to the clouds hiding the moon and back. “Bill is _Bill?_ Scary horror fire demon Bill?” Dipper nodded slowly, grimacing. She was going to kill him for bringing Bill to life, and ask how it happened, and demand an explanation for why they kept lying to her, and-- 

“I ship it,” she said. She stretched an arm through the flames and grabbed Bill’s skinny arm. Her smile was reassuring. “Can you stop being on fire so we can go back inside?” 

It was Dipper’s turn to gawk as the demon grinned heartily at his twin and snapped his long fingers, making the blaze disperse. _I thought he didn’t like Mabel._ The two went inside smoothly, no hidden glares or baring teeth. Dipper eventually followed and locked the door behind them. The three settled around the table, where Dipper and Bill spun a web of lies about how their totally real relationship came to be. 

 

“I am going to miss you guys _so much!_ ” 

It was the end of summer the next day. Shooting Star was squishing her brother’s face around like putty, kissing him on his eyelids and nose and cheeks. He was laughing, and so was she, but their eyes were glassy and reddish. 

Bill thought they looked ridiculous. 

Eventually they broke apart, and Shooting Star stomped up to Bill instead. For a moment he thought she was going to kill him, but she just hugged him instead. 

“Be nice to Dipper,” she said quietly, squeezing him until he couldn’t breathe. _Damn lungs._ He awkwardly patted her back with his free hand, as the other was pressing an ice pack to his forehead. “I’ll be the best boyfriend ever,” he promised, much to Pine Tree’s discomfort. “By fall, we’ll be married.” That made her fallen smile return. 

She made out with a blonde girl who was crying before running to her sparkly vehicle. They watched her hop into her car, waving and smiling. The second she was out of sight, Bill turned on his roommate. “Why did you kiss me?” he practically snapped. 

The brunette lifted his hands submissively. “You _said_ Mabel wanted us to kiss, so I kissed you. It was barely even a kiss, anyways-- you didn’t have to blow your cover as a human by blushing so much you set on fire.” 

Bill glared dangerously at Pine Tree from beneath the ice pack nailed to his face as they left the exit of Gravity Falls. It wasn’t that long of a walk from the Shack to there, so they hadn’t taken the truck. Shooting Star had beaten them to the edge of town via car to spend some extra time with her special lady friend. 

“We’re going to stop at the store,” Pine Tree decided while they idled back home. Bill followed the brunette inside through the magically opening doors, getting a good look at himself in the glass surface of them as they moved for him. A good look of how scrawny and beaten he seemed, as if he was a homeless dog. He smelled like it, too. 

Suddenly, Bill was self-conscious. “Pine Tree,” he grumbled. “Is there a bathroom here?” The other turned around with raised eyebrows. “Uh, yeah, it’s right over--” “Come with me.” 

It was a one-person bathroom, so people probably looked at them weird when they both went in, but Bill didn’t mind if they thought he was gay as long as they didn’t think he looked bad. 

“Help me,” he barked at Pine Tree as he tried to fix his hair with one hand. Oh, it looked awful… The brunette came up behind him and gently took his ice pack away. Bill flinched as his headache immediately worsened. _Damn hangovers._

“Help with what?” Pine Tree asked. 

“Help me look presentable.” Bill dropped his arms at his sides, deflated. He hadn’t actually paid attention to his figure, even when he’d looked himself over in the bathroom of the Shack that one time, and now that he did, he saw all of his flaws; his sunken eye with deep purple bags under it even though he slept constantly, hair ruffled like a startled bird and too glossy for the shine to be a healthy one, and body skinny enough to probably slide between a jail cell’s barring. _How did Pine Tree kiss me without vomiting?_

The shorter male shook his head. “I don’t see anything wrong,” he said. Bill gave him a look through the mirror. _Liar._ “I do,” he retorted. “I look _horrible._ What do I do?” Pine Tree sighed. “We could buy groceries?” “I’m not leaving this bathroom until I like how I look.” “Then you’ll be here for a while, I’m guessing. I’m going to get the groceries.” 

Bill held onto the brunette’s arm desperately before he could make it to the door. “Pine Tree,” he whined. “What do I _dooooo_?” 

“I don’t know, use your magic to fix your hair or something, since you have it,” he replied, sliding his limb free of the demon’s hold. Said demon scowled.

“I can’t-- _Oh!_ You _genius!_ ” Bill squashed Pine Tree’s face between his bony hands like Shooting Star had, pressing a wet kiss to the startled human’s forehead. “I’ll change this body using magic!” he exclaimed, releasing his now flustered roommate with a grin. _That was payback for last night._

Bill planted his feet firmly on the tiled floor, standing before the mirror. “Goodbye, ugly,” he said to his reflection. Then he looked into the other’s mocha eyes through the stained glass. “Hey, Pine Tree, what should I look like?” 

“Make your own body, I’m not helping,” said Pine Tree. He shuffled over to the toilet and knocked its lid down to sit, out of the mirror’s sight. 

Bill shrugged. “Fine.” He wanted to be simple; he wasn’t going to change his skin color or give himself only one eye or anything. Maybe later, but not now. Bill focused on how he wanted to look in his head, closed his eyes, both blind and working, and snapped his fingers. 

When he opened them, he grinned at himself in the mirror, showing off his slightly sharp white teeth, concealed by plush pink lips. His skin remained olive, but looked soft to the touch, not greasy. Golden freckles dusted the bridge of his nose and his cheeks, and his features were no longer aged and dead, but mischievous and somewhat childish. He knew if he got upset he would seem very intimidating, though. His noodly limbs were no longer flimsy and thin, instead firm and visibly strong, lithe appendages. The clothes they’d bought for him yesterday no longer seemed too baggy, but fit just right. He knew if he lifted his shirt he would no longer have to stare at his prominent ribcage. 

Pine Tree whistled behind him. “Good job,” he said, standing. “Ready to go food shopping now?” Bill scrunched up his freckled nose. “Be a little more proud, Pine Tree,” he complained, following the brunette back into the small crowd in the grocery store. “I look _hot._ ” 

“That’s what Mabel said, actually, before you changed,” came Pine Tree’s reply as he retrieved a metal cart and brought it over to where Bill was standing. 

“What a sweet princess- Oh, that looks fun.” Bill moved to get in the cart, but the other stopped him.

“What are you doing?” Pine Tree asked.

Bill blinked. “Getting in.” And after they stared at each other for a moment, Pine Tree let him sit in the wheeled basket. 

 

Bill demanded they get spaghetti and buy every starfruit in the store and get as much Pitt Cola as they could fit in the cart with him sitting there. Dipper could barely walk as they headed home, he was carrying so many groceries. Bill had his hands full too, but he could at least see where he was going. “Pine Tree, there’s a tree!” he would shout occasionally, making Dipper jump out of the way, and there would never be a tree there. 

Sometimes, Dipper really wanted to hate Bill.

But he just didn’t anymore. 

They had dinner in front of the television, crammed together on the sofa because they both wanted to lay down and neither desired manning the floor. Their legs were tangled together, Dipper’s back hurt thanks to his awkward position, and his Hot Pocket was cold in the middle, but Bill entertained him by freaking out whenever Sherlock deduced something or made a rude joke. 

“The _real_ Sherlock Holmes wasn’t nearly as smart as this one,” the demon said between bites of his food.

Dipper furrowed his brow. “I thought he was fake.” 

“Nah.” The answer was slightly muffled. “He was a real detective. Just not that good. The author of the Sherlock Holmes series was, like, half-related to him or something. Thought it was a good idea.” 

“That’s… awesome. Have you met him?” Dipper tuned out the television to direct his attention to Bill, who was cramming his Hot Pocket into his mouth as fast as he could and downing his fourth Pitt Cola at the same time. The empty cans he had already finished sat crushed on the carpet. 

“I have,” he answered. “He’s annoying. Asks more questions than you do, kid.” Bill looked plainly relaxed, almost human, limbs twisted around Dipper’s. But then he smiled and those sharkish teeth reminded the person of what Bill was; a dream demon. 

_Actually…_ “Hey, Bill. What are you?” Dipper couldn’t recall Bill ever telling anyone he was a demon. Maybe he was an evil god. An all-powerful spirit, even. 

Bill rose his eyebrows and put his fourth drink on the floor. “What do you think of me as, Pine Tree?” 

“A demon,” Dipper said cheekily. 

“Then I’m a demon. Are you going to drink that?” Before Dipper could answer, Bill stole his soda, chugging it. Then he crushed the aluminum against his apparently hard belly and put it with the rest of his collection, licking the sugary beverage from his lips while doing so. 

Dipper watched that pink tongue dart from Bill’s mouth, transfixed. It was gone as quickly as it came, though, and Dipper realized that he’d been staring. He quickly focused on the television, ears hot. 

Eventually, they both couldn’t hold in their yawns anymore and had trouble keeping their eyes open, so Dipper shut the TV off. “Time for bed,” he announced, but he didn’t get up. He didn’t move at all, actually. He blamed his stillness on the fact that Bill didn’t budge either and had his legs laced through Dipper’s, rendering them both immobel. 

“Our backs will hurt like crazy if we don’t move, Bill,” the brunette mumbled. His housemate groaned and stayed put. 

So Dipper fell asleep. 

But it didn’t feel like sleep; no, it felt like the opposite. His heart was pounding in his ears and felt like adrenaline had replaced the blood in his veins. The Mindscape wasn’t his usual forest, but instead a ship; the SS Mystery Shack. She was a massive pirate ship, sturdy and wooden, with strong, billowing sails. She smelled of the sea.

Dipper was climbing into a small rowboat to investigate an island that his crew had been searching for and finally found. It wasn’t a big piece of land, so he guessed he wouldn’t take long, especially with his adventurous skills. His boat hit the water, rocking some, but it soon settled and he went on his way. 

He was about halfway to shore when Dipper saw a bright flash of gold in the ocean. 

_What was that?_ The pirate pulled his oars into the boat with him and looked around at the water making his boat tilt back and forth pleasantly. When he found nothing, Dipper decided to brush the sight off, and nearly put his oars back into the ocean- but he saw it again.

_Siren._ A giant bright yellow-gold fishtail smacked the side of his boat. The word “siren” was all he thought as it tipped sideways and poured him into the salty black water. Surprisingly warm arms wrapped around Dipper’s middle from behind. He was shocked, too shocked to fight, as the arms carried him in a random direction. Bubbles slipped from between his lips, but he didn’t drown. 

Dipper could soon touch the sand underfoot, and hurried to pull himself free of the siren’s grasp. He knew it wasn’t a mermaid from how big its tail was, and because he could just sense it, because it was his dream. He still couldn’t reach the surface by standing, so he hurried along the ocean floor for a few seconds until he could feel the freezing air on his face. He kicked up clouds of sand with every pump of his legs, and water pulled at his heavy clothes like a needy lover. 

So he took everything off. It was only a dream, after all.

Dipper sat, nude, on the shoreline, arms wrapped around his legs and knees pulled up to his chest. The Mindscape was freezing (and full of sirens), even if Dipper willed it to be warmer (and not full of sirens). It was so cold he decided to slide back into the ocean, seated on his knees so he was up to his neck in the sea without having to go far. It was warmer in the water- but the water had sirens, so he remained cautious. 

He watched the SS Mystery Shack sitting in the distance and waited for something to happen. If he looked at the woods, there was only static, which meant his mind didn’t create the island for him to explore. So he stared expectantly at the blue beyond instead. 

_Maybe that siren was nice. I mean… it flipped my boat, but it brought me over here._ Dipper eyed the little flash of gold that appeared every moment or so, each time getting closer. _Well, I guess I can ask it._

Before Dipper could stand, there was an olive-skinned man about his age sliding between his legs and popping up from under the water. Dipper yelped and fell backwards, sucking in the ocean, but tasting nothing and breathing fine. The man hovered above him, grinning, the gills in his sides mimicking the look of a human ribcage, but fluttering wildly. 

_The siren._ It looked exactly like Bill- from the waist up. His huge golden tail seemed to glow beneath the water, as his lovely skin did. Dipper touched that skin, marveled at its clean, soft texture. His hands roamed from the siren’s shoulders and back, gently pulling it down on top of him. It was stunning, and its hair felt like silk, and its lips tasted like Hell, and it was _intoxicating._

Dipper found himself grinding his naked body up into the siren’s lean belly and groaning inside of its hot mouth before he was even fully aware of what he was doing. Their lips broke apart, and Dipper sucked needily at the beast’s dark neck as it nipped at his ear, singing quietly to him between soft gasps. 

The feeling of being underwater with a striking mythical creature keeping him from surfacing was exciting, even though Dipper could breathe just fine. It felt more like floating than swimming to him. 

“Can we go to the beach?” he asked quietly. Bubbles spilled from his mouth. The siren chuckled like Bill would chuckle and lifted Dipper flush against it, shooting up to the shore in a matter of seconds with a snap of its strong tail. It lowered Dipper onto the wet sand and settled beside him on its side.

Dipper leaned over and slanted his mouth over the siren’s immediately, refusing to cool down and relax and examine the stars. He didn’t care about the stars; there was a damn constellation on his forehead. 

The brunette rolled his counterpart onto its back, sitting on its scaled pelvis. He bit at its lower lip between rough kisses and it keened, its back arching off the gritty Earth. He rutted up against its golden tail until he felt something slick and hard jabbing at him.

Dipper sucked in a sharp breath and gathered the siren’s unsheathed member in his hand, pumping it quickly. The creature moaned softly, its hand joining his, but also gripping the brunette’s length. It had very long fingers. 

It stroked the both of them, pressing their sensitive appendages together, until Dipper was so close he was mewling. 

And then he woke up.


	10. Camp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long! Anddd sorry if there's any typos or plot holes! I rushed a lot... Enjoy, please! Comments and kudos are practically begged for!

All morning, Pine Tree was red as that one gem Bill’d once stolen- a ruby. Bill asked the kid several times if he was sick or if his back hurt from laying on the couch _that much_ but all he ever got as an answer was ‘nnnngngg’. 

Bill scrunched up his nose. Obviously, the kid didn’t want to talk about sleeping or sickness. “Are we working today?” he tried instead. 

“No,” Pine Tree finally replied. He scrubbed at a dish and handed it to Bill, who rinsed it off and put it on the dish rack. It was the first real work he’d actually done in the Shack. “We’ll be closed until October, when people will be looking for scary shit.” 

Bill rose an eyebrow. “Why? I thought you loved the Mystery Shack.” “I’m just super tired and… mixed up, Bill. I don’t have time to work.” Flustered again, the brunette quickly finished the dishes and went outside. Bill grunted and headed upstairs. Fine; be nice all night and then rude again in the morning. _He acts as if we had drunk sex._

Bill decided to snoop around in Pine Tree’s room. He found that laptop again but when he opened it there was a password that needed to be entered and he didn’t feel like breaking into Pine Tree’s mind to find it out. He put that back and went through the bureau instead. There was plain old clothes in every drawer, like always, but there was a half-full water bottle on top of the dresser so Bill took that and chugged it all. Water was delicious. 

He looked under the bed again, and found lots of dust and a little sock puppet that looked like Pine Tree. _Aww, it’s from the first time I stole the kid’s body._ He stole the puppet, tucking it into the pocket of the gym shorts he’d worn all day yesterday and proceeded to sleep in. Then Bill sat on the edge of the mattress and inspected the three drawers of Pine Tree’s mysterious bedside table. 

_Anything could be in there,_ he thought. _The journals, a pistol, eyeballs…_ Bill immediately pulled the bottom drawer open. Inside was a stack of papers. 

Slightly disappointed, the demon skimmed what the sheets read. _Tickets? Parking tickets?_ He grinned. None were paid, obviously. _Better hope no policemen need to look through your bedroom anytime soon, Pine Tree._

Bill went for the middle drawer. There were only pens, crayons, markers, pencils and erasers in there. 

He sighed and opened the top one. _Shouldn’t have gotten excited._ A black, wide cylinder with a pump on top and one of those little on-the-go packets of tissues, this one ripped open, sat inside. Bill picked up the container and read its label: _Anal Lube Natural_. 

“Oh.” He gently put it back, sliding the drawer shut with a grin so wide it hurt. _Whoops. Wasn’t supposed to see that._

Deeming this little adventure as over, Bill went downstairs and into the kitchen. Pine Tree wasn’t there. _Probably still sulking outside. Not with lube. Say anything about the lube and you will be kicked outta’ here so fast, Cipher._ The demon helped himself to a can of Pitt Cola while he waited for his housemate to come back. 

Bill sat around for about twenty minutes, ending up drinking seven more cans of soda, each beverage accompanied by a different position he tried while lazing on the couch. His head buzzed vaguely, much quieter than it had been yesterday, but it was nice now. He could feel the pain subsiding. It was a pleasant feeling- better than pain itself. 

Eventually, he got tired of waiting. It was ninety degrees in the Shack and Pine Tree wasn’t with him and it was _boring._ Bill went outside via the back door and swallowed a lungful of humid, sticky air before screaming: _”PINE TREE!”_

A flock of birds rose from the forest and flew away. Bill inhaled deeply again to yell, but he choked on the rancid smell of danger surrounding the back porch. Dark energy crackled around him, dissolving quickly like translucent smoke. Pine Tree came into sight from the shrubbery before Bill could dwell on it.. “What’s up?” he asked, jogging over. He looked startled, hair all messy, clothes twisted and drenched but burned in some places, too. 

Bill rose an eyebrow at him, ignoring the stench and magic. “Did you run into a damn siren in those woods? You look hot and bothered.” 

The kid turned a deeper shade of red. “N-no, I heard you shouting and ran over here as fast as I could-- the lower branches got me.” He reached up and patted the top of his head. Bill didn’t know what hand signal that w-- “Where’s my hat? Damn…” 

_Ohh._ The demon shrugged. “Gone forever,” he replied. He made to go back indoors, satisfied with the conversation, but then he had an idea. He spun around, barefoot in gym shorts and a too-large hoodie, and marched into the forest. “ Let’s go find your hat. Into the woods!” 

Pine Tree groaned behind him, but Bill could hear him follow. “Not this again…” “It’s your fault for talking about the movie constantly.” 

They walked in a comfortable silence for what seemed like hours but was probably only around ten minutes. Bill loathed silence. 

“Where do you remember having it last?” he asked, ducking under a swooping branch. His body was awkward in the forest, he realized, and his bare feet were bleeding from the thorns and roots and rocks littering the ground. 

“On my head,” the kid replied rather snarkily. Bill grinned. “Surely you would’ve felt it fall off, Pine Tree.” “I didn’t.” 

 

_I can’t tell him. I made a deal with him-- it’s, like, illegal to make a deal with two things at once, isn’t it?_

Dipper’s head was swimming. The king had visited him in the waking world the moment he stepped outdoors, spinning that jeweled staff of his and showing off his rotten teeth in a smirk. 

“Enjoying yourself?” he’d asked. 

“What do you mean?” Dipper answered with a question after he caught his breath. The being had nearly given him a heart attack, since usually Dipper could sense someone’s presence, practicing magic so often. The king had no presence. 

“How’s your life working out with all that money, is what I mean.” 

“Oh.” Dipper smiled honestly and nodded. “It’s-- it’s amazing. Thank you, so much. Are you sure I don’t have to repay you?” 

“Now that you mention it…” The hovering entity lowered to the floor of the deck, a nimble finger tapping his chin thoughtfully. “I do want something in return.” His friendly smile never faded, but Dipper then felt tense. 

“What... do you want, then?” 

“Oh, man, I dunno’. How about information on Bill Cipher?” 

The brunette frowned. _Why would he want information on Bill?_ “Because, boy,” the king answered, “I’ve decided that’s what I want. And I get what I want.”

_Oh. Right. He reads minds._ “That’s… fair, I guess,” Dipper said. He found himself enjoying Bill’s company, liking him more and more in odd ways he didn’t believe were safe, but telling some ghost some things about the demon couldn’t hurt. “What do you want to know?” 

“Why he’s in Gravity Falls, and why he hangs around you so often,” the king replied simply.

Dipper nodded. That would be easy. But… “Is that all?”

“That’s all.” The king smiled again, crooked fangs in deep contrast with his snow-white skin and hair. “There’s a Phoenix in the woods. I say this only because I am pleased with your cooperation. It is easy to spot; perhaps you could take some pictures.” And he dispersed in a flourish of light yellow-orange smoke. 

So the twenty-year-old had ended up chasing a fiery bird much too big to take home with him and lost his hat along the way.

Bill wiped at his nose with his jacket sleeve as they walked. They’d ended up side-by-side. Dipper sighed softly; that was his college hoodie. 

“I have more hats,” he finally said after around twenty more minutes of silent idling. “And I wasn’t even out here the first time as long as we’ve been walking _this_ time. Let’s just turn around.” 

Bill sighed dramatically, whipping around on his heel and heading back in the direction they came. The demon followed the trail of dark red he’d left on the foliage; he’d gone out shoeless. 

“Why did you come out here, anyways?” asked he. Dipper caught up to him, tugging at his messy brown hair with one hand and rubbing a fresh scrape on his side with the other. 

“I was chasing a Phoenix-- or, the Phoenix was chasing me,” he said. “I didn’t have time to take any pictures of it because it tried to eat me.” 

Bill barked out his signature laugh. “Poor little Pine Tree,” he drawled. “You should’ve-- _oof!_ ” The demon ran into nothing but bounced backwards anyways, staggering into Dipper and sending them both to the dirt. Dipper yelped and flinched, trying to right himself and get Bill to stand back up, but the blonde seemed stunned. 

“Bill, get off!” he shouted. “You’re crushing me!” Bill snapped out of his blank state and scrambled onto his feet, looking rather frazzled. Dipper got up too, now mildly confused as the irritation of being thrown ebbed away. “Bill?” 

“There’s a barrier here,” Bill murmured. He shot a hand out, his arm sparked, and he yanked away again, cursing in a dead language. Dipper furrowed his brow and reached out too; his fingertips brushed something that was definitely there, but not visible. He wasn’t knocked away like Bill was.

“This was never here before,” he said. If he pressed the whole of his palm to its invisible surface and slid it around, he could see ripples. It was, in fact, a barrier. “I don’t remember this place. Bill, where are we?” 

“Someplace nice,” said the other. “I didn’t want to go home yet--” Dipper blinked at the word ‘home’. “--so I thought we could go here instead. But it’s blocked up.” 

The brunette looked around; they hadn’t been heading towards the Shack, he realized after examining his surroundings, and he’d never been in this area of the forest before. Dipper didn’t know there was more forest. How had they even come here if they were walking in a straight line?

“Well? Break it down.” 

Dipper blinked. “What?” 

“Break the barrier,” Bill said. “I can’t touch it. A creature in these woods must’ve wanted to keep the area out of a demon’s reach. So I can’t go near it. You obviously can.” He gestured to where Dipper’s hand was held against the unseen shield. “Break it down so we can go in.” 

“I-I don’t know how,” Dipper stammered, pulling his arm back. “And… the forest looks the same behind the barrier. Why do we need to go see some ‘nice’ trees and rocks?” 

“The barrier _obviously_ put up a mirage so you’d _think_ there was nothing there, Pine Tree,” Bill explained slowly, as if speaking to a child. He dropped a hand on Dipper’s shoulder. “Destroying barriers is easy. You can do it. Then we can have fun.” 

The way Bill said ‘have fun’ made Dipper shiver. He hoped the demon had made it sound that way on accident, but also hoped that if he was successful Bill would reward him by-- _Nothing nothing nothing!_ He shook his head wildly, fluffy hair whipping around. “Then why don’t you do it?” he snapped, a little too harshly.

Bill’s hand fell from his shoulder. “I already told you I can’t touch it. Do you need me to teach you something so simple?” 

Dipper’s ears felt hot. Of course Bill would think lowly of him for not knowing how to destroy a magically-appearing barrier in the middle of nowhere. He knew how to create barriers, obviously, but not get rid of them. “Can you?” he asked grudgingly. 

The normal shit-eating grin returned to Bill’s lips. Bill’s full red lips that tasted like Hell in his imagination and probably a million times better in reality and _Dipper stop what are you doing you’re so gross and creepy ugh._ He didn’t know why he kept thinking like this. 

“Of course I can,” Bill answered chipperly. He went behind Dipper and grabbed his elbows, moving the brunette’s arms straight out in front of him. He slid a leg between Dipper’s, making him shudder again (he made sure Bill couldn’t see his face red with guilt and horrible hormonal ideas), and nudged the human’s feet apart a bit. 

“Stay like this,” he instructed. “Put your hands on the barrier.” 

It was an awkward position, but Dipper complied. “Okay,” came Bill’s voice from behind him. “Focus your negative energy. All of it.” Dipper nodded and focused, furrowing his brow. _Bills. Mabel leaving. Being single and alone. The stupid demon behind me. Making stupid,_ stupid _deals._ Surprisingly, just those few things made him feel purely upset. 

Dipper could hear the grin in Bill’s tone as he continued. “Good. You’re almost shaking, you’re so pissed, Pine Tree. I’m proud of you.” Dipper didn’t know why he felt as if he was now becoming Bill’s follower instead of the other way around. _Must be his magic. He’s actually dangerous now._ “Now force that energy into your hands.” 

The brunette did as he was told. 

Whips of hot pink electricity crawled down his arms. “Pink?!” he exclaimed. Pink was the color of his magic? Damn… Before he had time to somehow blame Bill for the shade of his energy, the barrier shuddered and shattered like a glass dome. The pieces melted into air as they fell, never hitting the ground-- but Dipper did, as he had been slightly leaning into the barrier.

He thumped into the Earth, bouncing once and flinching when his belly pressed into a small albeit sharp rock. “Dammit,” Dipper hissed, sliding onto his hands and knees. That was going to hurt for a little while. 

Bill grabbed him by the shoulder and roughly hoisted him onto his feet. Before he could pull away or whine in protest, Bill’s other hand pointed ahead. 

In front of them was a waterfall, spilling freely and gushing steam. The water looked almost cartoonish from the way it spiraled in clumps of deep blue, rolling like spun serpents or thick strips of ribbon. It went up too high for Dipper to know where it went from river to falls, surrounded by a steep cliff. At the waterfall’s base was a circular pond big enough to swim easy laps in. Dipper wondered how it wasn’t visible when they weren’t there. 

There was a wide clearing that showed off the dark waterfall, freckled with vibrantly-colored flowers with hues Dipper didn’t know existed. Lush green grass painted the area and crawled up the face of the cliff several feet until the mountainous surface became rock. The temperature wasn’t unbearably hot, like the rest of town was; it was a nice warm sunny climate, and the wind was blowing nicely enough for the grass to shift and glisten, but not strong enough to make the area chilly.

“How is this…” Dipper relaxed in his housemate’s loosened grip. “How is this here?” 

“Magic, kid,” laughed Bill. “I’ve only ever seen this place in the Mindscape. Now I can finally touch it!” The demon released him- Dipper twitched at the loss of contact- and shed his hoodie, promptly throwing it behind him as he ran around. He barreled across the ground and buried his nose in the deep green blades beneath him, bare torso brushed at by the Earth. 

Dipper smiled and slid his socks and sneakers off, abandoning them, and all his worries, at the edge of the field. He wasted no time sprinting over and tackling Bill, not thinking once of what the demon’s reaction would be. 

It was a positive one. 

They rolled over each other, battling weakly and pinning one another down when either could, choking on laughter all the while. 

_Why haven’t we come here before?_ Dipper asked himself as Bill straddled him, shirtless and golden and gasping between wild giggles, yellowish eyes sparkling and hair seeming to glow in the light of the sun. The brunette caught himself before he leaned up for a kiss, instead opting to grab the blonde’s slightly curved hips and flip them over. 

This continued for several more minutes until Bill discovered Dipper was ticklish and began using that to his advantage. Dipper cried for the demon to stop, cursing himself for laughing so hard and nearly pissing himself, so they ended up sprawled out in the soft grass. 

“This... _place_ is wonderful,” Dipper murmured. His friend grunted beside him. He’d never felt so relaxed; covered in pollen and slightly damp with sweat, breathing in the lovely air of the untainted forest, side-by-side with Bill Cipher. They remained that way for a little while longer before Dipper popped the bubble of silence again. 

“We should come back here tonight.” 

Bill blinked over at him. “If we’re going to come back tonight, why should we even leave?” 

Dipper quickly pieced together a plan. “We’ll go to the store, stock up on alcohol and junk food, head to the Shack for some blankets and chairs and lights or something, some clothes for _you_ , and then we’ll come back. We could even sleep here. If-- if it’s safe?” It came off as a question. The woods were packed with monsters; one could come into the clearing at any moment, really. 

Bill grinned widely. “That sounds like a _splendid_ idea.” He sat up and grabbed the hoodie he’d borrowed from Dipper, pulling it on over his head. He couldn’t see the brunette’s ears turn red from the pleasant surprise of being praised. “It’s safe with me around, kid. But at night, it can get hard to move around the woods and find this place; even for me, in this damn body,” the demon continued. “So let’s go. Right now. C’mon!”

They raced from the clearing, both barefoot now, to get back to the Mystery Shack as quickly as possible. Dipper left his shoes. 

 

Dipper’s naked feet hurt like a _bitch_ as he and Bill walked around the store, a nearly-full shopping cart pushed along. “What else do we need?” he asked his demon. The. _The_ demon. 

“How about these?” Bill held up a bag of giant marshmallows. “These look like little pillows.” 

Dipper nodded and tossed them into the cart, then threw in some roasting forks, both on top of the soda, beer, tequila, triple sec, lemon juice, solo cups, loaf of bread, deli meats and cheeses, chocolate, candy, multiple bags of chips, and the two folded beach chairs. Bill had insisted on the beach chairs. They _looked perfect_ , according to him. 

Dipper smiled at the cashier as she dropped all of their stuff into large paper bags for the walk to the Shack. 

“Going camping?” she inquired. 

Dipper nodded, and Bill roped an arm around the brunette’s neck, making him jump. “It’s going to be the best ‘camping’ ever,” the taller said, a little loudly. The cashier laughed and toyed with the cash register. 

“Oh, I dunno’,” she teased. “I had a pretty good time in Fogarty Creeks last month.”

Bill’s arm tightened around Dipper’s shoulders. “We’re going to have more fun tonight than you’ll ever have in your short life.” 

The cashier looked at them weird. Dipper apologized and paid the exact amount needed for their ‘supplies’, then dropped a twenty into the tip jar. He shook Bill’s arm off to fill his own two with shopping bags. “Get the rest,” he instructed. Bill didn’t budge. Dipper sighed heavily. “Can you _please_ get the rest?” 

The demon carried less than Dipper did, but complained the whole walk home. “We should’ve gotten the car,” he groaned. Dipper rolled his eyes and let his housemate rant. Bill was voicing all of his thoughts, anyway, so there was nothing to say. 

Inside the Mystery Shack, there was air conditioning. It wasn’t as nice as the clearing’s feel, but it was still nice. Dipper dumped his grocery bags on top of the rarely-used dining room table. Bill copied him a moment later. 

“We need a bag for all of this,” Dipper said. “Have you seen the cooler?” “The what?” “Never mind.” He straightened up and went into the kitchen, peering into the fridge, ducking under the table, and checking the cabinets. He went to the walk-in pantry last but the cooler wasn’t there, either. Dipper grabbed a few small logs from beside the furnace for a fire and put them on the little table before going out onto the back porch. 

The cooler was beside the beaten couch, as he guessed it would be. Dipper picked it up and carried it inside, bundling his firewood and small red lantern in one arm with the cooler tucked under the other. Bill was seated at the table, a can of Pitt Cola in his hand. He looked up at Dipper and grinned. “How’s all our stuff gonna’ fit in that little box?” 

“Only the food goes in.” The brunette set to packing, a demon over his shoulder. 

 

“Almost there!” Bill called back to Dipper. They had decided that the dream demon would lead the way through the woods, as he had last time. Dipper sighed and adjusted the multiple straps from several bags twisted together on his shoulder; they were digging into his neck. 

Several more minutes passed with Bill hoisting the cooler higher up in his arms and Dipper huffing and trying to stay comfortable without throwing his back out at a young age. The second Dipper felt the air cooling, he relaxed. “Finally…” he grumbled as they entered the gorgeous clearing. 

Bill dropped the cooler and the bag holding their chairs, blanket, and pajama bottoms on the grass, immediately freeing himself of the hoodie he’d adorned like he had earlier that day. He rolled his shoulders back and Dipper watched the blade-like bones push against his slightly dark skin. The brunette hurried to put all of his stuff down, too, wrestling out of his shirt and pants before he was aware of his actions. 

“Beat you to the water!” he shouted while rushing towards the small lake, suddenly hyper. Bill was on his heels in seconds, and if Dipper glanced back, he could see the grinning blonde reaching out for him. Dipper didn’t know how this place made them so excited and giddy, but he wasn’t going to complain. 

Bill caught him a foot away from the water and they both plummeted into it, snorting and guffawing. Dipper wriggled out of his housemate’s grasp and shoved outwards, sending a small wave into the demon’s face. Bill spluttered and laughed, snapping his fingers; a rather large torrent over Dipper, who literally _squealed_ before he went under. 

When Dipper surfaced and accused the other of cheating between giggles, Bill told him about how easy manipulating the four main elements was. 

“Could you teach me how to do that?” Dipper asked. 

So Bill did. 

It was so easy to learn new things with Bill being his teacher; the demon didn’t use big words (most of the time) and he was good-spirited. He congratulated Dipper when the brunette did something right and chortled while making fun of him when he messed up. It made Dipper work harder and become more successful, because the praise was tender, and the humiliation was nearly unbearable. 

By the time Dipper could messily move the water around with his mind, it was getting dark out. “I’m hungry,” Bill complained eventually. Dipper splashed him with a poorly-constructed wave, moving it along with small jolts of hot pink energy. “Let’s eat then,” he said hurriedly, scrambling out of the water before the demon could get revenge. 

Dipper wanted to eat a sandwich, but he didn’t feel like making it, and Bill refused to do it, so they ended up devouring several bags of chips while lounging in their beach chairs. Empty bottles of beer littered the grass, and both males had solo cups full of margaritas. Dipper found himself enjoying the tart alcohol. “Told you it was good,” exclaimed Bill from beside him with a slurred voice. Dipper nodded and voiced his agreement by groaning.

The brunette knew they were both crazily drunk, but didn’t really care. It felt nice, letting loose with… with a friend. 

“Hey, Bill,” Dipper said. The demon stopped laughing at the hook-shaped moon dangling in the sky and claiming it was actually a spaceship to turn his head in Dipper’s direction.

“Yeah, kid?” 

“Are we friends?” 

Bill smiled at him, brows furrowed. “Do you want to be friends?” 

“I want to be more than friends.” 

Dipper blinked a moment after saying that and then smacked himself in the forehead. “Oh, _god_ \--” He spluttered and giggled drunkenly, face even redder than before. “Sorry, Bill, I-” “Pine Tree, you’re adorable.” 

The brunette looked up, awkward grin twitching. “I am _not._ ” 

Bill’s smile was toothy and honest and drunk but Dipper couldn’t see it for long because it was _against his own mouth for real oh my god I’m kissing Bill_. 

Dipper immediately leaned into the demon who was practically falling out of his chair stretching to kiss him. Their lips gently moved together for a moment, but Bill fell over and landed on the ground awkwardly. They broke apart and laughed, and Bill pulled Dipper down with him, both of their chairs knocked over. Dipper squirmed to sit on his knees and try to start a vague conversation but Bill was kissing him again, this time with force. 

Dipper melted into the contact, their mouths sliding against each other’s again. Bill nipped at his lower lip harshly and he jumped, yelping into the demon’s mouth. The brunette could smell the other; his scent was strong, reminding Dipper of power and energy and storms. When he parted his lips and let Bill’s tongue invade his mouth, he got a taste of the demon’s flavor, all sweet and hellish and electrifying with a hint of barbecue chips and alcohol. 

Their tongues fought lazily, curling and savoring one another’s taste. A slender hand found its way into Dipper’s hair, pulling at the locks and making the human groan. Bill grinned against his lips and tugged again, and Dipper fought back another embarrassing noise. _I didn’t know I liked that…_

Bill finished exploring Dipper’s mouth and broke the kiss, a trail of saliva connecting their lips together. He grinned wolfishly at Dipper, who felt hot all over, shifting between his knees and trying to hide his growing erection. “U-uhm…” The brunette’s breath hitched when Bill gently pecked him again to get rid of the string of spit, then licked Dipper’s cheek. He shivered as the demon pulled back again. 

“Your face is scratchy,” the blonde commented, licking his minorly swollen lips. “And now I’m tired. So let’s sleep.” 

Dipper stared vacantly for a moment before leaving to grab the blanket. He brought it back and threw it out flat across the grass. 

The curled up on opposite sides of the sheet, Dipper fidgeting and nervous, Bill relaxed and calm. 

Sometimes, Dipper really wanted to hate Bill.


	11. Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD I'M SO SO SOSOSOSOSIDODISDOUSDIFOD SORRY I DIDN'T UPDATE FOR LIKE SEVERAL YEARS???????? IDKKK I wasn't allowed to use the computer for a little while and when I was I was sidetracked by work and sadly tumblr I know it's depressing bUT I'M UPDATING NOW SO PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE FORGIVE ME I'll do anything I'll even use your ideas in the next chapter if you comment any. ;A;

Dipper was awkward and Bill didn’t even remember what happened last night. He’d told the brunette so as they packed up. 

“So, what happened when I was drunk?” Bill asked. They were already back at the Shack, Dipper massaging his sore feet on the couch and Bill stretched out on their semi-new coffee table on his back. They had both taken showers, changed, and dressed their heels in bandages. Both were shirtless and simply wearing pajama bottoms, but Dipper found that if he stared at his wiggling toes, he wouldn’t want to look at a sexy demon a foot away from him.

Dipper shrugged. “Nothing, really,” he answered, trying for a vague tone. “We drank, and...”

“And?” 

“Netflixandchill,” he coughed out before shooting onto his feet. “I need water.” Bill gave him a weird look as he rushed to the kitchen. 

 

Of _course_ Bill remembered what happened last night! He was a demon, all-seeing, with an infinite memory. His slightly confused mask broke away as soon as Pine Tree scurried off, replaced with a crooked grin. “Gullible,” he muttered, sitting up. The table was uncomfortable. He wanted a bed. “I’m taking a nap,” he called to the kitchen as he got to his sore feet. A noise of acknowledgement answered him a moment later, reminding him amusedly of the sounds Pine Tree’d made when he’d pulled the boy’s hair the night before. Bill’s grin widened and he padded up the stairs. 

The room was obviously the same as it had been last time. Bill dropped onto the mattress and forced the duvet out of its tucked-in place, tossing the freed half over himself. He slid Pine Tree’s laptop from under the bed and flicked his wrist once it was comfortably settled in his lap, causing the bedroom door to gently shut and lock itself. He didn’t want to be caught breaking into someone’s personal belongings, after all. 

The blonde then shut his eyes. He opened them again to find himself strolling about in Pine Tree’s Mindscape. It took a minute, but Bill quickly found the kid’s memory of him entering a password into the laptop. _Mabeljuice_ , the password was. Bill rolled his eyes and exited the brunette’s mind, reentering the world of color. Or, color for mortals. He typed in the passcode in the little block on the screen and moved the mouse around aimlessly. He’d asked about how the internet and how electronics like this worked while they’d walked back to the Mystery Shack, tinkering with Pine Tree’s emotions afterwards so he wouldn’t get suspicious by the conversation. 

First, Bill wanted to Google his body. ‘Alben Dov’ brought up a few sites, mainly consisting of “did you mean?”s from Google and chunks of the name famous people were also called. There was a Facebook account- Pine Tree explained that site too- under Alben Dov, but Bill couldn’t see anything other than a profile picture because Alben only shared things with his beloved online friends. So Bill Googled Pine Tree instead. 

‘Dipper Pines’ brought up a couple pictures of the kid on Google Images, posing awkwardly in group photos or taking selfies, but that was pretty much it. He had a Facebook, though, so Bill went there. He had things to share, and Bill was close to diving in, but then the website requested he ‘sign in’. Bill huffed and clicked the OK button. 

And then he was Pine Tree. 

Bill smirked darkly. _Never save your password on the social media, kid._ He skimmed through photo albums under the brunette’s name, checked out Shooting Star and all of the kid’s friends, filing all information on them away in his mind. The pictures Pine Tree had were poorly-taken and each one was in bad lighting. Pine Tree’s profile picture was probably the worst one, with him and Shooting Star all squished into the frame, him looking mildly annoyed, her seeming overjoyed. 

Bill didn’t like it. 

He adjusted the laptop and clicked the ‘Update Profile Picture’ option, then the ‘Take Photo’ option. Suddenly, he was staring back at himself, hair a mess and lips still softly bruised from the night before. Bill smiled and positioned the camera so it could see his bare chest and face, and he fixed his bangs some before snapping the picture and saving it as Pine Tree’s profile photo. He entertained himself with the media for about half an hour after that, content with himself, until his finger hurt from scrolling. Bill put the laptop back and wriggled out from under the duvet, leaving the bedroom. 

Pine Tree was fucking around in the kitchen, probably trying to cook. “I’m bored,” exclaimed Bill as he collapsed across the counter. That evil stench he’d smelled on the porch the day before pricked at his nose, but he dismissed it as a side effect of the kid’s mess on the stove.

A rather stiff Pine Tree nodded at him. “You can go in the woods if you want,” he offered, clearing his throat when his voice jumped. “I’m gonna’ relax here for the day.”

Bill blinked at his off-putting mood but put it aside like he did the gross smell of the room. He didn’t want to lounge around. It was only noon. Lounging was a nighttime activity. And while he found himself preferring the kid’s company, Bill wasn’t going to force Pine Tree to tag along. _Let him relax. You can bother him more tonight if he cools off now. Especially when he’s acting weird._ “Alright.” The blonde turned to go back upstairs and get a more fitting outfit for exploring. 

“Bill?” He quirked a brow at the shuffling boy behind him when he spoke up in a ‘yes?’ manner.

“Uhm,” Pine Tree lifted his new hat- he didn’t lie about having extras- to scratch at his hair before putting it back. “Why do you… like hanging around me so often? I’m-- I’m just curious, y’know?” 

Bill frowned slightly, then smiled. “You’re my favorite human, kid,” he said. “The smartest I’ve seen in a millenia. Easy on the eye, too.” He savored making the kid’s ears red. The blonde blinked at him before sauntering up the stairs. “You can’t tell, but I winked.” 

Exploring the bathroom proved to be more fun than he thought it would be. Eyeliner and mascara was easy to use, and Bill made himself look like an Egyptian god with that makeup. He made his freckles pop and his eye glow by darkening his skin to a deep mocha with a dash of magic. Then he just plain abused his power by dressing himself without batting a thickened eyelash. He wore a pale yellow tank top and black cargo shorts, military boots hiding his slim feet. Before Bill went back to the kitchen, he tucked his phone away in his pocket. Pine Tree told him to take it wherever he went.

The kid was picking at burnt scrambled eggs at the little table beside the back door. “Okay, I’m off,” Bill told him, opening said door with a flourish. He snapped his fingers and a pair of sunglasses dropped into his hand, which he quickly slid on. “See you whenever I get back.” The kid grunted, moving his food around his paper plate, not looking up to notice Bill’s skin or clothes or magic, so Bill left. 

Everything Bill saw was still in black and white, like it was in the Mindscape. Even in reality. So he wasn’t at all amazed by the forest now that he had to walk through it. In fact, it was slightly annoying now, since the demon couldn’t teleport with ease or levitate freely. But now he could touch the trees and feel how rough they were, inhale sharply and smell animals and mushrooms and crisp air, open his mouth and taste the clearness of the atmosphere. 

Simply put, Bill found it nice. 

Pine Tree wasn’t there to ask questions and make him laugh and blush whenever Bill said something inappropriate, but he didn’t mind too much. He wanted to speak with someone else, anyways. 

It didn’t take long to arrive at a small, cool spring hidden by towering trees. Nothing took long when Bill led the way. He pushed himself through the trunks of the oaks and crouched at the rim of the water. The creature he was visiting strictly spoke one language, and Bill wasn’t too good with that language, despite knowing every spell originating from it by heart. So he was mildly cautious when speaking to the being, lest he be embarrassed by his poor translations. 

“Salve?” he called softly. “Aliquis ibi?”

The surface of the cold water rippled. At the center of the circlets of tiny waves, the pool took shape, rising up and morphing into a body. It took the form of a nude woman, but had no skin or hair, only light glassy water and darker shades for a mane that fell across her shoulders and back. She was stunning, but Bill didn’t care.

“Ego hic sum,” she answered. Her glossy head tilted, chips of ice for eyes drinking in his stance. “Tu quis es?”

“Ego sum Bill Cipher, somnium daemon.” He rose to his booted feet, shoulders straight and nose tipped skyward. “Hoc est de foresta mea.”

The nymph’s gaze narrowed. “Tu mentior?”

“Omni tempore.” He met her stare evenly after positioning his sunglasses on top of his head, golden orb flickering with ruby. “Dubitas?”

She shook her head slowly. “Ego neque dubitarem.” She slid out of the water, leaving a trail of her own body behind her petite feet. “Quid tibi opus est a me?”

Bill watched her glistening form. She was a weak creature, merely water, but nymphs were not easily ruled over. She didn’t believe him when he said he was king of the woods. She mocked him.

“Just visitans,” he replied airily. “Forma humana meo loqui debeo.” He knew he didn’t get that sentence right. “Hoc non est etiam meus pelagus lingua,” he added quickly, knowing he said that one wrong too. 

The nymph gave him a soft smile, unanswering. She looked like she knew something he didn’t, and her smile only grew when a heavy burst of wind rolled through the clearing. Bill rolled his glowing eye. “Nos fiunt modo,” he told her. Then he focused a spark of energy into his palm to be able to push her back into the spring, as if she were solid, turning away as she melted back into part of the water. “Discant reverentur.” 

_What a poor meeting,_ Bill thought as he picked through the trees, slightly breathless thanks to how much energy was drained from the clothing and the sunglasses and the shoving. _She does not respect me. I’d give her nightmares if she had a damn brain._ He’d hoped something eventful would’ve occurred while he visited a somewhat intelligent being, but nothing happened. _Pine Tree would’ve thought she was nice._ Then he wondered if he should go see that Phoenix and take some feathers from it to give to Pine Tree. 

_I should. He’ll feel better._ The demon turned around and marched further into the forest instead of back towards the Shack. _Not that I care if he feels better or not._

Bill wasn’t even halfway to the Phoenix’s nest when a wind strong enough to make him stagger backwards shoved him from above. He frowned. “I’m nowhere close to her territory. How’d she find me?” The blonde looked up to search for the fiery bird but never found her. 

Instead, he was face-to-face with a wyvern. 

“Ah,” he said blankly. The reptile snorted through its nostrils, gusting hot disgusting breath across his face. The beating of its leathery wings was what brought on such powerful wind, Bill noted. He tried to make his arms erupt into flames, tried to hover if only for a moment so he could scare it off, but nothing happened. 

Bill sighed. _Two monsters in one day? Pine Tree would be ecstatic._

“Oh, monstrous beast,” he began, bowing deeply. It folded its wings and set its hind feet on the ground, stomping towards Bill at an even pace as he spoke. “I am Bill Cipher, ruler of the forest. Who might you be?”

It halted, glittering eyes slitting. **’I am Milenth. You do not seem like ruler of the forest, small one.’**

Bill twitched at that, straightening up. “I am ruler, which means I rule you, if you live here,” he said. “If you don’t, get out of my woods.” The wyvern adjusted itself, ivory scales glinting whenever a patch of sunlight hit them through the treetops. 

**’You are lying,’** it hissed, much to Bill’s annoyance. He made to say something witty, but the beast cut him off. **’But if you are truthful, if I kill you, I will be ruler.’** Its head craned upon its long, thick neck, tilted as it stared the demon down.

Bill clapped his hands together in a vague attempt to start his magic up, to no avail. Then he sighed again, and began to run. _This is embarrassing._

Milenth stormed after him, shaking the ground and occasionally making a large splintering noise which Bill guessed was it smashing through trees. His feet carried him rather gracelessly through the woods, still not used to bolting over rocks and roots to lose a dragon. He was panting almost immediately, stumbling across fallen branches and turning in a random direction whenever Milenth got too close for comfort, cursing himself simultaneously for wasting magic and lots of energy on trying to look nice. _If I die, at least I’ll look pretty._

Bill was snapped out of his thoughts when jaws snapped shut around his calf, causing him to shout in surprise and intense pain.

_When did it even get that close?_ The wyvern lifted him off the dirt and thrashed him around, teeth like saws ripping into the soft flesh of his leg. He forced himself to curl upwards and grabbed onto its fangs as his sunglasses fell from his head, trying to pull the monster away from him and make it drop him, but the burning sensation of flesh tearing away from bone weakened Bill even further. He didn’t know he could even get so tired, feel so weak and useless. 

Feel so human. 

“Let me _go,_ ” he screamed as a final resort, pulling himself up further with his leg still inside of Milenth’s maw by digging his nails into its muzzle. He hammered a fist down on its forehead, but it seemed unfazed. So he went for the eye instead. 

Milenth gave an unearthly sound, mouth hanging open, as Bill shoved his entire hand into its right eye, going further into the thick gooey cavern until his elbow disappeared. The wyvern shrieked and thrashed insanely, whipping its head from side to side. Every jerk sent jolts of excruciating pain up what remained of Bill’s leg, travelling from his spine to his nerves and making him cry out.

He yanked himself away from the beast’s teeth and hit the Earth on his back roughly, keeping his gaze focused on Milenth and away from his leg. He was sure it was in ribbons, but looking at it would only make it worse, not make him feel better. _If that nymph saw me right now it would laugh so hard._

His near-murderer slammed itself into trees and the ground, heaving raggedly and looking as if it would topple over at any minute. “What a cry-baby,” Bill muttered as Milenth whimpered and unfolded its thick wings, clumsily flying off. “Didn’t even finish the job and I barely touched him. He could never be ruler of the forest.” 

Bill lay there for a few minutes, eyes hazy and having trouble focusing, letting himself bleed out all over the clumps of grass and the hard soil underfoot. When he began coughing up red, he knew he had to move, or his body would die and he would be stuck in the Mindscape again. He still had so much to do before his host died; travel around the world, go on a date, eat ice cream, definitely have lots of sex. Bill hadn’t done any of those yet, but Shooting Star had told him all those things were fun and good ideas once he’d calmed down that one night Pine Tree was super pissed at him. 

_Pine Tree!_ Bill felt his cargo shorts’ pocket for the phone he’d been given. He fumbled with it for a moment, trying and failing at unlocking it at least three times before he was successful. Bill sloppily found Pine Tree’s little picture on the screen and hit it with his thumb _a lot_. When it started ringing, he dropped it on the ground next to his ear, breathing heavily as he waited for the kid to pick up. 

_”Hello?”_

“Hey kid.” Bill grinned despite himself, twisting his fingers in his tank top. 

_”Oh, hey Bill. Thanks for changing my fucking profile picture.”_ He sounded calm, more relaxed, joking a bit but still vexed. That was good, but also bad, because what if Pine Tree actually cared about Bill and freaked out when Bill said he was missing a leg? 

“I--” Bill groaned loudly when a wave of fiery agony tore through him. _”Bill?”_ “I got hurt, Pine Tree. There’s blood. My body’s dying.” May as well get it over with. 

_”What?! Bill, what happened- actually, no, don’t tell me. Where are you?”_

“Uhm…” The demon glanced around. “Woods.” _”Bill, be more specific. I need to know where you are.”_

“About twenty minutes away from home,” he answered simply. “I was-- _ugh--_ that hurts. Pain is _not_ hilarious.” 

_”Bill, I’m going to call the police now. We’re gonna look for you. Twenty minutes, straight out into the woods?”_ Bill almost nodded but remembered Pine Tree telling him no one could see through the speakers. “Yeah.”

_”Okay. Stay where you are, don’t move, try to apply pressure to the wound. Breathe normal. Can you do that for me?”_

“Yes, Pine Tree. Calm down, yeesh.”

_”You’re ble-- you know what, whatever. Shut up. Do what I told you to and nothing else. We’ll talk when you’re not dying anymore. I’m calling the police.”_ The line went dead. 

Bill sighed softly, ever-so-slowly rolling onto his belly despite Pine Tree telling him to be still. He was suffocating on blood by then, crimson pooling in his mouth, and he wanted to be able to spit it out. He also didn’t want to look at his leg. _I can’t ‘apply pressure’ to that, anyways._

He folded his arms beneath his chin and pushed his face into the limbs. The blonde could keep himself from sobbing in pain, but he couldn’t keep himself from feeling it. It was _terrible._ He needed it to stop. Then he recalled having bruised himself falling out of bed on accident in his sleep a few days back, not feeling it until he woke up an hour later. If he went to sleep, maybe he wouldn’t feel the shocks of torment rippling through him. Bill nodded weakly to himself in agreement, closing his eye and nuzzling his forearms as unconsciousness swiftly pulled him away from himself.


	12. Confusing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know people normally don't come out of the hospital so soon, but the chapter was slow enough, y'know? Bill can handle an early leave. :D

Dipper sat in the waiting room of Gravity Falls’ hospital, bouncing his knees swiftly. One hand held an empty paper cup, and the other pressed his phone to his ear. “I don’t know what happened,” he was telling his sister. “His leg is just… ruined.” 

They talked quietly via phone for about ten more minutes, Mabel soothing, Dipper hyperventilating. Eventually his twin said she needed to get back to work, and he understood. She told him to call her when Bill got out of surgery, so Dipper promised to do so, and they hung up. Dipper got up but left his earlier discarded jacket on the chair he was in so no one could steal it, crossing the room to get more coffee. It was free and kind of cold and poorly brewed, and the sugar tasted more like salt than sweetness, but it kept him up. He’d been in and out of the hospital for nearly sixteen hours, getting information when he could and nodding off in his now warm seat when he couldn’t. So far, Dipper knew the demon had lost almost too much blood, and his leg was going to be removed from the thigh down. 

He sighed against the rim of the paper cup after refilling it, sitting again. _He should be able to do his magic or something,_ he thought sternly as he sipped at the gross liquid. _At least be able to defend himself. What’d he do, sacrifice his body to crocottas?_ Dipper shook his head. That was a possibility, but he prayed Bill wasn’t stupid enough to do it. 

Suddenly, Dipper was nauseous. He got up and clumsily set his coffee on the receptionist’s desk as he jogged to the bathroom. Locking the door behind himself, the brunette hung his head over to toilet, hoping his hat wouldn’t fall off. After a moment of waiting and nothing coming up his throat, Dipper rose again. “It’s probably just nerves,” he thought aloud, frowning deeply. Why was he so worried? Bill was just a demon. If his host died, he wouldn’t die. Would he?

“Demons can’t die if their host does, no.” 

Dipper’s head snapped up. The king was hovering above him, leaning over his shoulder. He jerked back when Dipper whipped around, smiling. “Oh-- god, you scared me,” exclaimed the brunette. The king sank onto his feet. “There is no god here,” he replied, “Only the king. How is your demon?” He wiggled his fingers around dismissively upon grumbling the word ‘demon’, as if flicking a sticky piece of paper from his hand. 

“He’s in surgery,” Dipper answered, deflating. He didn’t feel like talking about Bill. “B-but, uhm-- he told me why he likes being around me.” 

The king smiled widely, sliding over to Dipper as if he were on a conveyer belt. “Why does he?” he asked, arms folded behind him. 

“He said something like, uh, me being smart and his favorite.” He left out the ‘easy on the eye’ part, ears heated despite himself. The other fixed his spiraling hair, closing his eyes briefly as if savoring the information. Then he gave the brunette a slightly pitiful look. “Thank you, Dipper Pines.” 

Dipper nodded cautiously, brows furrowed at the pitying stare. After the king had visited him yesterday morning, upset and angrily asking why Dipper hadn’t found out why he didn’t have enough information, the brunette had been more careful. Now the child felt bad for him? _Probably acting since Bill is in pain._ “Is that all?” he questioned. 

The king nodded. “I apologize for startling you,” he chuckled, sad gaze melting back into a cheery one, “I’ll be on my way now. Your demon’s surgery is complete.” Dipper didn’t even wait for the child to fully dissolve into air before he was running out of the bathroom and to the receptionist desk to demand he see his friend. 

 

Everything was insanely blurry in whatever the Hell area Bill was in. A searing pain was ripping into his right thigh, harshly enough to make him whine. When he tried to hold onto his leg, he found that his wrists were strapped to whatever surface he was laying across.

_Dammit…_ The demon shut his eyes- his eyepatch was gone- when the fuzzy place surrounding him started to make his head hurt. He heard muffled voices, as if he was underwater, but couldn’t make out what they were saying. 

Slowly, something grabbed at his hand. He flinched away from it even though he was tied down, heard some more voices, and then whatever was touching him disappeared. Bill cautiously opened his eyes after a moment of awkwardly scrunching up his nose and forehead trying to calm the buzzing in his skull enough to stare without being racked by pain. 

“Pine Tree,” he murmured sleepily when he came face-to-face with the blurry figure, a smile gracing his features. Bill tried to reach up but his wrists were still pinned to what felt like a bed. “Where am I?” he asked after failing. 

“The hospital,” Pine Tree answered. He murmured something to the white-coated men behind him- probably doctors now that Bill thought about it- and they unclasped Bill’s wrists. He slid them onto his chest and rubbed gentle circles against the slightly bruised skin with his thumbs. _What doctor would bruise their patients?_

Before he could ask any more questions, Pine Tree was very softly hugging him, arms looped around the demon’s shoulders in a loose fashion. “You’re alright,” he breathed into Bill’s ear, who only smiled wider. “Of course I am, kid. I’m a being of pure energy.” Pine Tree snorted and slid away.

“I’m coming back to visit you when I’m done sleeping,” he told the blonde. “I haven’t slept in, like, years, Bill.” Bill nodded. _Aw, he cares so much he can’t sleep._ It filled the demon’s chest with something warm. Pine Tree exited the room, taking a vaguely familiar smell with him. Bill barely had time to clear his head any more before the doctors were swarming him, asking how he got injured and what kind of ‘prosthetic’ he thought would work best, charts and clipboards flying about.

 

Dipper finished talking to Mabel on the phone and explaining to her that Bill was alive, laying back in his bed. It was weird being there without that irregularly warm demon sleeping next to him, weird knowing long limbs wouldn’t be laced through his when he woke up. Weird knowing only three of those limbs would wind through his again- if they Bill wanted to sleep in his bed with him. Not that Dipper wanted him to. Dipper didn’t like Bill. He was a demon.

A hot demon. 

That Dipper didn’t have a crush on. 

_Why can’t I keep hating the damn guy? It was so easy when he was evil. And not sexy._ He sighed, pressing his palms into his face. Then he turned onto his side gently and let sleep swallow him up without bothering to pull the blanket over him. 

 

When Dipper woke up around seven hours later, he felt groggy, but better than before, having slept dreamlessly. He got out of bed and wetted his hair in the sink in the upstairs bathroom to seem like he took a shower, quickly pulling on a jacket afterwards so he wouldn’t smell too horribly. The house phone had a missed call, so he listened to the voicemail, and it was from the hospital. They explained that Bill wouldn’t choose which prosthetic leg he was going to wear for the remainder of his life, and that he kept demanding to see Dipper. The man on the recording sounded like he was struggling. 

“Poor Bill,” Dipper mused as he put the telephone back in its cradle. “Just wanted to have some fun and ended up crippled.” He got in his muddy Tacoma and slowly drove back to the local hospital. 

The parking lot wasn’t crowded, and Dipper got a spot relatively close to the entrance. He smiled to an elderly couple sliding down the ramp, one in a wheelchair and the other gripping the handles on its back, as he went inside. The receptionist wasn’t the same as the one that had been here when he’d left, so he explained to her why he was there and asked if he could go see Bill. She told him what room the demon was in- it must’ve changed since he’d been gone- and he went there quickly. 

Bill was thrashing wildly, pinned down by several surgeons. He looked odd with only a bandaged stump of a leg whipping around in place of a mildly dangerous limb, arms pinned to the thin mattress beneath him, face twisted up and lips peeled back to bare sharp teeth, skin darkened to a smooth chocolate tone. Dipper walked forward, quietly asking if the men wrestling with Bill would release him.They gave him blank looks but retreated. 

When Bill opened his eyes, Dipper noticed for the second time that day that his usually hidden eye was a blind, cloudy gray. It was weird, but normal when it came to the demon, who smiled widely upon realizing Dipper had arrived. 

“Pine Tree,” he exclaimed softly, voice hoarse but not as bad as it had been that morning. “I lost my leg. They’re trying to put a fake one on me now.” 

Dipper’s eyebrows rose, acting like he was as frazzled as the demon, and a surgeon muttered to him from behind: “He claims it was a dragon that attacked him, but we couldn’t find any injuries around his head that would result in loss of memory or off behavior. Nothing that would make him say that. Do you know what happened?”

“It was a bear,” Dipper quickly answered. “There are bears everywhere in the woods right outside where we live.” He shuffled away from the man and set a hand on Bill’s shoulder. “You gotta’ choose a leg, Bill. You can’t hop around on one foot forever.” 

The demon made to argue, but Dipper squeezed his arm in a constricting hold, and he nodded grudgingly instead. They decided together on which prosthetic Bill wanted, settling on a lovely limb with gears and metal at the knee and mysterious engravings on a wood-looking calf and foot. The underside of the foot looked like metal, like the knee and the back of the lower leg did. Bill fumed when the hospital told him his leg needed to heal before he put it on, and that they’d hang onto the prosthetic until he was all better. A nurse taught him how to use crutches before they were allowed to leave. The demon pouted and grumped the whole way back to Dipper’s truck, seated in a wheelchair with his arms crossed, crutches set across his lap. 

“So, a dragon got you?” the brunette asked the second they were both buckled up, crutches in the back seat and wheelchair gone. Bill nodded as the other started the engine with a twist of his keys. “Wyvern named Milenth or something. I told it I rule the forest and it said if it ate me it would gain my power. Some stupid shit.” He waved his hand around vaguely. 

Dipper rolled his eyes as they started down the road. “Okay, well no more exploring without me,” he said firmly. “You could’ve died.” 

“So?” 

“So that’s bad.” 

“Naaaah.” 

“Bill, I was worried.” 

“Aw, really?”

“Yeah, really, you dick.” 

“You _love_ me.” 

“Yeah.” 

There was a pause. 

“Yeah, _right_ ,” Dipper covered up swiftly, neck reddening. Bill grinned at him but said nothing, picking at the bandages swallowing his little stump of a thigh instead. Dipper reached over to swat the demon’s hands away from the covering, and his wrist was snatched too fast for him to react. The Tacoma swerved when he jerked, but he fixed himself. 

“ _Bill!_ ” He shot the blonde a dirty look. Bill ignored him, simply smiling and playing with Dipper’s fingers, counting and bending them and-- _kissing his fingertips._ The brunette’s stern tone faltered. “B-Bill?” 

The demon looked up at him with gray and gold eyes, smile turning to a grin. “Sorry,” he said in a way that meant he wasn’t, handing the limb back over. “I wanted to taste you.” 

Dipper stared tensely, face red, before turning back to the road. The rest of the drive was silent minus when Bill turned the radio on and put on a station that played classical music.

They pulled up to the Shack with Beethoven quietly spilling from the truck’s speakers. Dipper gathered the other’s crutches and got out, going to Bill’s side to help him to the ground. The blonde took his crutches and, struggling a slight thanks to the dirt beneath him, limped over to the porch. Dipper held the back door open for him and they both went inside, going to the living room. Bill settled on the couch slowly, dropping his crutches on the floor and leaning back. 

Dipper nearly sat with him but the demon spoke up before he could. “I want to go to bed,” he murmured. “The couch hurts my back, and the hospital bed _sucked._ ” It was almost lewd, the way Bill said it, and Dipper kept himself from shivering to instead sigh and straighten his back out. 

“Come on, then,” he grumbled, patting the demon’s elbow until he got up. Bill dug the foam handles into his armpits as he lumbered over to the stairs, then looked at Dipper pitifully.

“Carry me,” he said in a childish voice. 

So Dipper did. 

He also brought Bill several bottles of beer- probably too many bottles of beer- to numb the pain in his knee. Bill used magic to somewhat close the open gash bandaged away on his leg, claiming he was strong enough and had more energy now, and lay in Dipper’s bed, juggling empty bottles rather poorly. Dipper sat next to him, texting Mabel on his phone, nodding along as Bill spoke of how much he disliked grapes and why. 

Soon, the demon fell asleep, and left Dipper on his own. The brunette went back downstairs and watched television. A documentary on white-tailed deer was on, and he couldn’t find the remote, so he watched that until he, too, went under. 

That night, he had a dream. 

Trees towered overhead, filtering light through their wide, spider-webbish branches and large portions of leaves. Dipper walked beneath the shade, relishing in the small spots of sunlight that warmed him when he passed under them. Even in black and white, the Mindscape was lovely.

He was graceful in this dream, with four hooved feet and a long, slender build that resembled a buck’s from the waist-down. Long, sharp antlers erupted from his brown hair, and black tribal markings accented his bare chest and arms. He was clearly a cervitaur. _Probably the effects of watching deer._

He barely noticed when the air chilled and the leaves ceased their gentle swaying. Dipper only became wary of his surroundings when the forest stopped making noise, and by then it was too late. Something sharp and small took him in the left flank, sending him toppling over in pain, screaming through his gritted teeth. 

Dipper fought to stand again, limbs trembling with effort. No hunter had come to claim him yet, and no other instrument had pierced his skull to end him. But if someone showed themselves, he was going to fight them, antlers and fists ready. 

As if on queue, a heavy paw, bigger than half of Dipper’s body, smashed through the trees. Its fur was a color Dipper couldn’t describe, and its claws were longer than the brunette’s entire figure, glowing azure appendages stretched and designed to look like fishhooks. The claws pierced his flat belly, making him shout again, and the small blades angled backwards kept them from sliding out of him as he was lifted off the ground. 

A gigantic maw ripped from the trees, rotting fangs layered over and over like shark teeth, spinning around wildly as if its bloody gums were chainsaws. The jaws split open and a familiar laugh chimed in Dipper’s ears, gushing from the inside of the mouth. His first thought was of Bill, but no, his laugh wasn’t this horrible. It shook the landscape as Dipper weakly struggled. _Must be poison in whatever got in my leg._

The teeth clamped shut on his neck, fangs whirring crazily and guffawing echoing, and Dipper screamed. His head ripped off, falling down the forked tongue of whatever just bit his skull from the rest of his now limp body, and a car light, a voidless pit oozing tar, and an unblinking, mirth-filled eye burned into Dipper’s vision as his detached head tumbled down the monster’s throat.


	13. Fair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well whoops time skip but hey you can't fall in love in a week y'know.

It wasn't June anymore. It was September. And the fourth season of Sherlock was still non-existent.

Bill and Dipper were squished together awkwardly on the couch, watching the same episodes of the television series over and over with the assistance of Netflix while eating the leftover stale cake from Dipper's birthday several weeks back. Sherlock was Bill's new favorite show, and he insisted on watching it whenever they were in the living room.

Bill's favorite show was Sherlock but his favorite movie was James and the Giant Peach.

Bill's favorite food was spaghetti and his favorite snack was Doritos.

Bill's favorite activity was drinking coffee and talking for hours on end.

Bill thought teenagers were stupid and scolded any young couples they passed on the street.

Bill fed bacon to Hamlet during breakfast and when confronted asked if Dipper wanted some too.

And Dipper had not only gotten used to him, but he now loved him.

It only took a few months and Dipper was in love; madly so. He'd never felt this way before but he knew what love did to people now. Bill Cipher the dream demon drove his heart crazy with his missing leg jokes and somehow lovely cooking and toothy smiles and just... his Billness. Dipper just loved it. Dipper just loved Bill. Bill made him happy and Bill took his mind off the forever lurking nightmares of fishhook talons and mashing rotten fangs.

Of course, Bill didn't know that. Dipper kept all that information to himself. And god, was it hard to keep to himself when he shared a bed with the flirty blonde.

"Jim is such a loveable little shit," Bill announced, waving his fork around and snapping Dipper from his thoughts. The demon adjusted himself and banged Dipper with his fake leg. "Whoops, sorry."

Dipper smiled. "It's fine. Want me to take it off?" Bill was often uncomfortable with the prosthetic on; another thing Dipper noticed.

Bill shook his head. "I'll be okay. Unless you're grossed out by my Barbie doll thigh, I mean." He gave Dipper a silly, perfect grin.

"Nah. I love your Barbie doll thigh." Dipper hoped Bill didn't think that was creepy to say as he nudged the other with his bare toes, gaining a light jab from a plastic, frostingy fork. God dammit, Dipper wanted to lick the fork and then Bill's fingers and then his chest and--

"Sherlock and John should get together already," the demon grumbled. "It's obvious they like each other, and they live together, too. Why not just date?" He looked over at Dipper expectantly, like he knew why the producers of the show chose to make them roommates and not lovers. _That scenario sounds familiar._

Dipper shrugged. "Ask England." "Mmh. Maybe I will." They sat like that, in the dimness of midnight, for around thirty more minutes, Bill occasionally commenting and resulting in Dipper giggling like a schoolgirl. When the episode ended, and both males were tired, they went upstairs. The duo went into Dipper's room; even though Mabel's was available and Bill was free to sleep in there, he insisted he stayed with Dipper. It made the human's heart flutter stupidly.

"I can't find any shorts," complained Bill as they got dressed for bed.

"Just wear your underwear then," Dipper offered, praying to every entity that his ears didn't get hot. "That's what I do." And doing so made it all the harder to keep from attacking his housemate while they were in bed.

"I'm not wearing any though." The brunette looked up from his dresser at that, willing his mind to stay focused at the mental image. Bill was wearing jeans and a tee that's design was a cat surfing on a slice of pizza. There's no way that's comfortable…

"Oh," he said. "Uhm..." Dipper grabbed a pair of boxers from his dresser, tossing them over to the blonde. "Put those on. And- wear underwear every day. Weirdo." Bill caught the clothing and promptly undressed right there in the middle of the room with a dutiful nod. Dipper removed his own jeans, faced away stiffly, and slid under the duvet with his underwear and shirt on. He was always nervous around the demon, watching what he said and did. It was worse than when he acted around Wendy when he was a kid.

Bill sat on the edge of the bed, on the opposite side. There was a brief clanging noise that signaled he was removing his metal leg before he shimmied beneath the blanket next to Dipper. The blonde waved a dismissive hand in the bedside lamp's direction before rolling into his side, facing the wall and never Dipper. Dipper knew he would be spooning with the demon in his sleep no matter what position they passed out in; Bill was handsy.

The brunette shut off the lamp and the room was swallowed by shadows.

 

The sun had barely risen when Bill woke up the next morning, blinking away the dreamless night. He sighed when he noticed Pine Tree tangled up in his arms, like always. _How does that always happen?_

Bill shrugged. He didn't mind if it happened. He angled his head so he could look at the other's sleeping face with his working eye instead of pulling away. The poor kid always seemed tired, even unconscious; purplish eyes and chapped lips, somewhat greasy hair and furrowed eyebrows. Bill grinned, fangs peaking from behind his lips. Whenever he saw that face his organs hurt, but in a good way.

He stayed like that, simply watching Pine Tree's exhausted expression, until the kid began twitching awake. Bill's smile grew. Wouldn't Pine Tree find it nice when he woke up to Bill watching over him like a hawk? Making sure he was safe in Bill's arms?

Bill was incorrect. Something he wouldn't admit to often. The brunette jumped when he saw Bill staring. "B-Bill," he muttered, tan cheeks reddening, "What're you doing?"

"Looking at you," Bill answered. "I like your face." He slid out of the other's limp hold and rolled over to the edge of the bed, sitting upright, pleased with the embarrassed sound coming from behind him. Bill grabbed his prosthetic and strapped it on tight enough so it wouldn't fall off, but loose enough so his leg could breathe or something the doctors said-- he didn't care. "Are we going to do something today?" he questioned as he slowly stood, false limb giving a quiet pop, and snapped his eyepatch into place instead of leaving it on the bedside table. Then he grabbed his cane to keep from falling. At first, it was just for decoration, but now he found that he needed it.

Pine Tree shrugged, face becoming normal again as he also got out of bed. _What nice legs you have_ , Bill thought with a swipe of his tongue over his lower lip. _But I'm not gonna' say that out loud because you freaked out last time I mentioned how you look. Ha ha, I'm catching on._ He grinned. Pine Tree gave him a stare as he grabbed khaki shorts and a navy shirt that read "KEEP OREGON WEIRD" on it. "We've stayed home all week, so we can go out, I guess."

"Yeah, but go where?" Bill asked, voice going up a pitch. They'd already done all the fun stuff in Gravity Falls. Now all they did was go to Edessa- Pine Tree named the magically hidden falls that- and Greasy's and around town when they went jogging (Bill couldn't jog as much as the kid thanks to his leg and cane though).

The kid's shoulders rose and fell again. "Google something to do. I don't know." He bundled up the clothing under his arm. "I'm going to get dressed." Then he left the room. 

Bill's nose twitched. Pine Tree still wouldn't get naked in the same room as him, and he was naked in front of the brunette all the time. Why couldn't they just be nude together? As he found clothes, he blankly realized why: when people are naked together, they have sex. 

“Well, guess we’ll just have to have sex then,” he murmured while dressing himself. His outfit was perfection; white shorts to show off his prosthetic, dashing fake leg (obviously), and a black tee with a picture of a white pyramid with an eye on it. Beneath the symbol were the words “DON’T TRUST ANYONE” in white text. It suited him perfectly. Even his glossy black cane matched.

Bill’s mind went back to nakedness and ‘sex’. He’d seen these rituals performed before. Two people that cared for each other deeply (him and Pine Tree, duh) had… sex. The thing went in the thing and it. Something. Then a blood offering and. Bill frowned. He didn’t remember. _How odd._ He went for Pine Tree’s laptop, sat on the bed and leaned his cane against his knee, and Googled two things: on the first tab, ‘male sexual intercourse’. On the second, ‘fun activities in Oregon’, because of course they were still going out today. 

The demon surfed around for a little while, trying to learn how sex with a guy worked. No articles really helped. When he came upon a video, he clicked on it immediately. _What better way to learn then to watch?_

It was a graphic, loud video, to say the least, but Bill understood sex by the time it was over. 

So he went onto searching for something to do for the day. A nearby fair caught his interest almost instantly. As he read about the location and details, Pine Tree reentered the bedroom, fully clothed. No sex there. No erratic movements involving sex there. “Check this out,” Bill said while the kid walked over. They talked about it for a while and he agreed to going. It was only an hour away, anyways. Pine Tree gathered water bottles and made sandwiches with whatever was in the fridge (they hadn’t gone shopping in a while, instead ordering delivery nightly and then jogging as often as possible to keep from becoming chubby) while Bill packed bags of candy and chips in the truck. He also snuck some margarita mix and beers in when the other wasn’t looking. Then Bill took a shower and suggested Pine Tree do the same. 

It was still fairly early by the time they got on the road, Pine Tree’s phone GPS set on the lot the fair was set up in. Bill plugged his own phone into the truck’s radio (he’d figured out how to play music and wouldn’t give it a rest) and, after dropping his cane in the back seat, put on his favorite classical piece: Palladio. The volume was turned down so he could talk to Pine Tree as they drove. With classical music and the kid’s company and chips and margarita mix, the trip didn’t take long at all. They were walking through the parking lot to the fair’s entrance in no time. There weren’t too many cars and inside the lines weren’t as long as Pine Tree said they’d be; they must’ve gotten there early.

“What should we go on first?” Pine Tree asked as they gazed around their brightly-painted and oddly-smelling environment. “Everything,” Bill answered.

Their first ride ended up being a Tilt-A-Whirl. The demon chose a bright yellow car in the back, nearly tackling a kid to make sure they got it after giving the worker next to the contraption his cane. When the ride started, Bill bumped shoulders with his housemate with every sudden lurch, laughing until tears filled his eye, unable to speak from how hard he was chortling. Pine Tree hugged his belly, looking a bit ill, but chuckling whenever their eyes met. Their big yellow seat spun insanely on a small rotator connected to a larger one that brought them around a pillar in a wide loop. Bill enjoyed it immensely, and Pine Tree looked a little green when it pulled to an eventual stop. 

“Okay, wait,” Pine Tree called when Bill rushed off for a particularly interesting looking ride, cane clicking. He sighed and turned around, facing the sluggish human, who eventually caught up. “How about we get something to eat before we get on another ride? A greasy breakfast, yeah?” That sounded nice. Bill expressed how good of an idea that was by squishing up the kid’s face while asking what kind of food there was. Pine Tree shoved him off rather playfully and brought them to a simple little cart. He showed Bill the small menu and explained how the thing worked. “Oh, it’s like Greasy’s,” Bill said. Pine Tree nodded with a crooked smile. That meant Bill did good, and his innards did weird things again. 

They idled about in the fair with candy apples and sodas in huge paper cups. Pine Tree got a map for Bill while they walked. “You can choose the rides,” he said cautiously. “But don’t go on any with food or your drink. Got it?” 

“Yeah, mom,” Bill replied through a mouthful of fruit and sugary casing. He wanted to finish as quickly as possible so he could go on more rides. That first one was great! 

Bill picked through the crowd with his map in one hand and his drink in the other, cane under his arm. He’d eaten the popsicle stick when Pine Tree wasn’t paying attention; it still had sugar on it, so it tasted fine.

The blonde looked down at his map. It was colorful with little smiling animals littered about. They seemed annoying. Shooting Star might like them, though. He focused on the attractions instead of on the images, quickly uninterested. "What's that one?" he asked Pine Tree, jabbing a finger into the map against a picture of a weird ride with the name 'Xtreme Frisbee'.

The kid looked over to where Bill was pointing. "Oh, that's another spinning ride." He frowned slightly.

Bill grinned. "Do you not like spinning rides, Pine Tree?" he giggled. 

"They're just... too crazy."

"No, you're just too _lame_."

"Am not."

"Prove it!"

"Fine!" Bill was grabbed by the kid and suddenly they were running down the dirt road, the demon lagging behind thanks to his limp. He could hardly catch his breath, laughing so harshly. When they stopped, Bill gasped to calm himself, then glanced down at his wrist, still tightly clasped in Pine Tree's hand. The brunette followed his gaze and, flushing, pulled away. "Here," he announced, crossing his arms. "The Xtreme Frisbee." 

Bill focused on the contraption before him, which they must've arrived at when he wasn't paying attention. It was a massive orange and pink and white disk attached to a long checkerboard and purple-orange-white striped pillar that sent it back and forth, held up by two triangular stands. The disk spun wildly as it went from side to side, and people were strapped in on the inside of it, screaming.

"Wow," said Bill as they got in line. "This looks fabulous!" Pine Tree rolled his mocha eyes.

"Yeah," he said. "And you're gonna' cry on it and I'm gonna' prove I'm not lame." Bill just smiled. Demons don't cry. Pine Tree should know that.

The kid left the line to get them a snack even though they just ate several minutes in. Bill grew bored quickly and settled on talking to the two female meatbags behind him.

"That was my human," he told them. "He's going to get us a pretzel to share. We're getting on this ride after we're done eating it." They giggled, playing with their weird hair.

"I like him a lot," Bill continued. "I like him so much I just might love him. You know love, right?"

One girl with green eyes and long brown hair smiled widely. "I know love," she said. "This is my girlfriend, Wander." Her fingers wrapped around the other's wrist. 'Wander' grinned, fiery orange hair falling over her amber hues.

Bill's lips curled upwards in response. He liked these humans. "Hello. I'm William. But I'm called Bill. Do you love each other?"

"We do," answered the brunette. "And I'm Ash, by the way." Bill's expression only got brighter. He adjusted his black cane. "You've had sex before, right? I hope you have. People in love have sex, don't they?"

Wander snorted. She didn't give him a weird look like the taller girl did. "Guess they do. Why, you gonna' hit that?" "Hit what?" "Never mind. Does he know you love him?" "I hope he does. We live together. It should be obvious."

By then, Pine Tree was shyly pulling himself back through the line, muttering apologies to the people he passed and holding a giant pretzel close to his chest.

"He's coming back," Bill sharply informed Wander. "He needs to know I love him. Quick. How do I tell him?" He hated asking for help, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

"Oh, try the Ferris wheel," offered the redhead. "It's romantic. And if he doesn't love you back, he can't run away."

Bill went to hug her and thank her for the idea, but Pine Tree was back. Wander winked at him and went back to talking to her girlfriend as if nothing had happened.

"Hey, sorry I took so long," the kid grumbled obliviously as he ripped his pretzel in two, handing Bill one half. "Everyone was buying pretzels. It's not even the afternoon yet. What's with people?"

Bill laughed and bit down on the fluffy dough. "You have no idea how bad you people are, kid. But never mind about that. Check it out; we're next on the ride!" Pine Tree looked a little green at that, but quickly masked his worry with a scowl. What an adorable scowl.

"Whatever," he grunted. Pretty cutely. Damn, the kid sure was acting adorable. Pine Tree wolfed down his pretzel in no time. Bill copied him, licking the salt from his lips. By the time he was finished, a man in a polo shirt with a messy mustache was letting them on the Xtreme Frisbee.

Bill buzzed with excitement and shot into the nearest plastic chair. Pine Tree slowly settled in beside him. "Excited?" Bill asked smugly upon noticing how nervous the kid seemed. "I can hardly breathe," replied he sarcastically. The mustache man came and slid big harnesses over their shoulders after the disk was full of seated people. Bill thanked him and fixed his hair while they waited for the ride to start.

"You're so lame," he commented as they sat there.

"Am not."

"Prove it."

"I am proving it!" 

"Prove it faster, I'm bored!"

"Bill, I can't just--" The ride gently began to sway to the left then came back. Bill grinned intensely as it went to the right, then left again, and started swinging. 

When the Frisbee spun, Pine Tree clung to Bill's arm, seeming to forget about his earlier boasting of how he wasn't lame. Bill, on the other hand, could only giggle as they spiraled and rocked from one side to the next. The machine was swiftly gaining speed, spinning faster, and Pine Tree was screaming and kicking his legs and bruising Bill's arm with how hard he was holding on, and it was _amazing._ Bill didn't think it could get any better, but it did, and it went quicker and farther and higher. The demon thought he would die of lack of oxygen if he kept laughing the way he did. 

The ride slowed down before he passed out. The kid's hand slid away when it pulled to a stop, and Bill let out a disappointed noise. Whether it was from the loss of contact or the ride's end, he wasn't sure. 

"That one is definitely my favorite," Bill said as they collected his cane and map from the bucket next to the Xtreme Frisbee and walked away. 

"Yeah, I'm not really a fan of spinning rides," repeated the kid. It was obvious he regretted his tough guy act.

Bill's smile grew. "Do you wanna' choose the next ride?" He waved the map in the other's face, eyebrows raised. Pine Tree shook his head. "Nah, I said you could choose the rides." Bill shrugged and took the map back, skimming it with his good eye. 

They ended up riding everything minus the roller coaster and the log flume. Those ones Pine Tree wanted to save for last, seeming more excited with every Starblaster, pirate ship, and (very aggressive) bumper cart ride. 

"C'moooon, this line is _so slow_... and I'm hungryyy," Bill groaned as they stood in line for the water ride. The log flume looked like it would be fantastic, but they'd been in line for like, fifteen minutes. Pine Tree chewed on his rubbery pizza slice while they waited. Bill had already eaten his.

"Shouldn't've eaten your pizza the minute we got in line," the kid mused. Bill glared at him.

"Just one bite," he pleaded.

"No, you'll eat all of it."

"I will not."

"Yes you will, unless I put a collar on you and feed it to you by hand like a dog."

"Oh, didn't know you swung that way." While the kid was distracted by his words, Bill swept down and stole a bite of his food. "B- _Bill_ ," snapped Pine Tree. The demon just laughed and wiped the grease from his mouth with his bare arm. 

The pizza was gone when they finally climbed in to a plastic log, cane leaned against the metal box covered in levers and buttons outside the ride. Bill got in behind his housemate, false leg and normal one crammed into the tight space. The log swayed in its tiny man-made river. "Why is it a fake log?" Bill asked Pine Tree, who just shrugged. 

The log creaked forward and started down its little path, bumpy and chattering with each turn. Bill couldn't see the brunette's face, but he hoped he looked scared. "Oh, cool," murmured the blonde as they went through a tunnel. He reached out and touched the cave's inner walls, but Pine Tree slapped his hand down. "Keep your hands and feet in the ride at all times," he chided in a monotone, robotic voice. Bill rolled his eyes with a smile. 

When the log came back into sunlight, there was a small hill. They went up said hill, paused at the top, and then shot down. Bill squealed in surprise, not having seen the drop, and grabbed onto Pine Tree's shaking shoulders. "Are you crying?" Bill gasped when they started idling down the river again. "No," the kid quickly answered, turning around with a wide grin, "I was laughing at you." Bill scrunched up his nose. "At least I'm not soaked," he observed. Pine Tree turned a slight to elbow him in the shoulder as they went up another hill. This one was much, much taller than the first.

"This is my favorite part," said Pine Tree. Bill leaned forward and wrapped his arms around the brunette's shoulders during the slow trek skywards. He wasn't shrugged off. _Good sign, right? Sure. Yeah. It is._ There was a woman at the peak of the hill in a little box, and she stared at Bill weirdly. Probably because he was standing on his seat and leaning over to cling to a blushing man. But before she could say anything, they went over. 

Bill screamed with laughter and Pine Tree yelled in a high pitched voice. Water crashed into them when they got back to the ground's level, soaking Bill through his clothes. _Oh, man, I'm wearing white shorts._ The log looped around and stopped at the place it started in, letting both dripping men off the ride. 

"Damn," Bill muttered as they traveled to the only roller coaster there, "my clothes are sticking now." 

Pine Tree glanced over, became red, and turned away again. "So are mine," he said quietly. "But the roller coaster will dry us off." Bill nodded, and they got in line for the Yankee Cannonball. It was chilly out, as it was almost dark.

Dipper loved roller coasters. They were his favorite ride. But how was he supposed to focus when Bill wore sopping white shorts that clung to his slender legs? At least he couldn't turn his head too much to stare with the harness holding his shoulders and abdomen down against his seat. 

"Ready?" Dipper asked the demon. They'd gotten the first two seats, luckily, and Bill was ecstatic. He seemed to like the ride more than Dipper did already, hair sticking to his excited expression from the water ride from earlier, and it hadn't even started yet. 

"Hell yeah," Bill replied. And the coaster started. 

It went straight up a hill, clinking with each turn of the wheels. Bill was making a teapot-ish sound, like he was getting ready to burst, the whole way up. The roller coaster halted at the top of the hill, but only for a second, before rocketing down the other side. Dipper threw his arms into the air with a loud bark of laughter as Bill released all his air in a sharp screech. The coaster zipped back up a second hill and swung to the right on its platform in a curve, dropping down to the Earth's height afterwards. It pulled back up, and went down again, Bill gasping for air between violent giggles and screams, Dipper waving his hands about and guffawing. The roller coaster shot upwards once more, hugged the tracks with a sharp turn to the side, and went down the hill. The ride repeated itself with its swift twists and dips until it rolled to a halt.

Dipper got out of the wooden coaster, his demon- the demon _the demon_ \- on his heels. By the time they were back in the cool open air, it was dark out. "Well, I guess that's everything," the brunette said. 

"No, no, wait--" Bill grabbed his arm and pointed with his cane, up at the Ferris wheel. "We haven't gone on that yet. C'mon, Pine Tree!" And then Dipper was being dragged away. 

_Why would he want to ride the Ferris wheel? I thought he liked all the fast rides..._ Bill led them to the rather short line for the ride, bouncing slightly but not too well thanks to his lack of leg. "This is gonna' work," he said to Dipper. "Work?" Dipper echoed. The demon nodded, and said nothing else for the rest of the wait. 

They got in a small pinkish chair when it was their turn to ride, and it gently creaked up into the night sky. When it stopped at the very top of the loop, Dipper turned to look at his taller companion, who was already staring at him, mouth split open in a grin. "Uh, Bill," the brunette started cautiously. "Are you gonna' kill me up here, or--" 

"I think I'm in love with you, Pine Tree." 

And the stars overhead seemed to explode. 

Dipper's mind swam, eyes wide as golf balls, face burning harshly. _Love love love love love me think you what love me think you're in love with me hang on?_ "W-what?" he stammered. Bill's grin looked like it hurt, it was so large. "I said, _I think I'm in love with you,_ " he repeated calmly. Then he leaned over and gave Dipper the gentlest kiss the man had ever experienced, lips full and smooth. "We're also having sex when we get home," the demon added. 

Dipper sank in their seat, facing the sky. "Oh, man." Sex with Bill. Bill loved Dipper. _Whatwhathhsuh??k G?G..._ His brain freaked out for a second. He didn't even notice that they'd stopped and were told to get off the ride until Bill nudged him back into the real world. "O-oh, right..." Dipper crawled out of the seat after the blonde, and they went to the car. 

"So?" Bill asked once they were driving. 

"S-so what?" 

"So, do you love me back, or are you going to be awkward?" 

"No, I-I do, I--" "You said no but you do?" "I-I-" "Pine Tree, c'mon." "I love you Bill goddamn let me finish my sentence." Bill elbowed him with a smirk. "Aha," he said. "I knew you couldn't resist me. Now drive faster." 

So Dipper did. 

When they got home, Bill forced him to immediately head upstairs. _Sex with Bill? What? Right? Was he joking? Was he lying about all of this? We forgot all our stuff in the back seat. At least he grabbed his cane._ The demon tossed said glossy cane aside, adjusted himself, and shoved Dipper down onto his bed. 

_Oh my fucking god._


	14. First Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is their first fuck and the first time I've written smut. -Flings a stack of paper out the window- I tried
> 
> Well it had to happen eventually. Sorry this took so long, ha ha ha ha ha -more awkward laughing noises- Also! No, Bill isn't a sex god in my work, he's a normal god. :^) We'll get back on track with the king later. But until then, aaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA--
> 
> Oh well. Please enjoy!

Bill’s mouth slanting over Dipper’s felt nothing like it had earlier. It wasn’t simple and emotional, no; it was rough and passionate, nearly sparking. Dipper gasped beneath the demon as his lower lip was bitten, and a coppery taste filled his mouth. Bill’s tongue followed that taste, forcing the brunette’s teeth apart and making him whimper. Wet pink muscles battled for dominance but the blonde looming over him quickly won their spar, slim hands gripping the back of Dipper’s head to hold him in place.

The human’s eyes fluttered open when Bill drew away, breath coming out heavy. “B-Bill,” he murmured as his companion- lover, was it lover now?- licked his lips and dove back in, teeth clacking together gently and noses squishing into one another’s. By the time Bill seemed satisfied with the kisses, Dipper could hardly breathe.

“Bill…” he tried again while the blonde fumbled with Dipper’s shirt, trying to pull it off his head. “Stupid thing,” Bill grumbled. “Raise your arms.”

“C’mon, Bill, wait a second…” Dipper squirmed out from beneath the demon, palming Bill's chest so he would stand back up and take a step away. Then the brunette took off his hat, gently put it on the floor beside the bed, and turned to face Bill. He was staring at Dipper with one wide eye, lips slightly bruised and parted, a light red tinting his dark skin and making his freckles seem brighter than before.

Dipper swallowed thickly and pulled his t-shirt off, screwing his eyes shut as the garment fell on top of his hat. _You’ve been shirtless around him before. Just calm down_.

But Bill's hands had never touched his chest this way, so when they did, Dipper couldn't keep himself from jumping. He opened his eyes to glare at the now chuckling demon, slender fingers dancing up his clenched abdomen and chest, grazing his nipples but not necessarily touching them. Dipper wanted to scold him, say something, _do_ something, but he let Bill take his time. The blonde had probably never done this before.

Bill eventually stopped exploring Dipper's skin, instead sitting back on his heels- when had he sat down? Dipper wasn't sure- and removing his own shirt. It was different seeing Bill shirtless under these circumstances, all lean muscle and dark skin, knowing that body would be beneath him- or above him. Oh god what if Bill wanted to fuck Dipper? He'd never been bottom before. _Oh man oh man oh man_.

"Bill." Dipper sat up, trying to keep his suddenly panicked breathing under control. "Bill, who's gonna'- do- who?" Bill cocked his head to the side, brows furrowed, before he seemed to understand.

"Oh," he said, pursing his somewhat swollen lips, "I dunno'. We'll figure it out." Bill just went back to touching Dipper's belly. He gave Dipper's nipples more attention this time, pressing down on them with his thumbs and squeezing them, causing Dipper to curl forward and gasp softly. _Damn, I didn't know that felt good_.

"Is that okay?" Bill asked, drawing his hands away. Dipper wanted to ask why he cared and why he stopped, suddenly feeling a rush of determination, but stopped himself when the shyness returned.

"Yeah, yeah," the brunette quickly answered, straightening up. "Uhm-- yeah." Bill smiled crookedly and leaned upwards, promptly licking one of Dipper's nipples. He made an embarrassing sound and gave Bill a dark look once he calmed himself, but the demon wasn't paying attention; he was busy tonguing and suckling the pink bud. Dipper twitched at the new feeling, mouth hanging open; this was definitely a nice feeling, so he wouldn't stop the cocky blonde, but he was kind of worried since he was on the verge of slapping a hand over his own mouth to keep from keening.

Bill broke his mouth away- Dipper swallowed a low noise of disapproval- and grabbed at Dipper's shorts unceremoniously after removing his socks in fluid movements, unbuttoning them and yanking them down Dipper's legs. "H-hey," the brunette squeaked, to no avail. Fingertips hooked into the hem of his boxers and pulled them off too, and hot breath hit Dipper's member without warning, making him jump again. He glanced down cautiously, staring at the visibly curious demon. This was the quietest Bill had ever been. It kind of freaked Dipper out, and he would be scared if his stomach didn't feel so distractedly coiled up and hot.

"Uh, you alright...?" Bill flicked his golden eye upwards, licking his lips. "Yep," he answered, removing his eyepatch and flicking it onto the mattress next to Dipper's bare thigh. "I just feel a little weird." Dipper nodded, leaning back on the heels of his palms as he waited for the demon to make a move. _Weird? Maybe... aroused...? God, Dipper, you're even awkward during sex. It's a mystery how you ever got laid to begin with. Now the--_

Bill squeezed the base of Dipper's length, fingers wrapped around him, the movement jolting Dipper back into reality with a startled squeak. The demon's hand slowly moved upwards, his countenance focused. The way the tip of his tongue stuck out of the side of his mouth made Dipper want to kiss him again, but the distracting feeling of a different person's- demon's- grip on him tore his mind away. He was stiffening further than he already had.

That tongue flicked out, grazing Dipper's sensitive appendage, and he yelped. Dipper wasn't quick enough to look down and Bill's mouth was wrapped around his cock, moving to his pelvis, swallowing him up in wet heat. The brunette grunted, clenching his jaw. How was the demon not choking, or at least pausing? 

Bill didn't stop until his nose was grazing the slight nest of chocolate hair surrounding the base of Dipper's member. Dipper closed his eyes slowly, tipping his head forward, oxygen coming in short bursts. He knew Bill could bite his dick off at any second and stab him or something, but that only made all of this more exciting.

"Hey, Pine Tree," piped up Bill all of a sudden after sliding his lips off with a pop, making Dipper raise his eyebrows questioningly. "Could you grab your anal lube?" Dipper's back went ramrod straight, mouth opening wider. _He saw that? Oh god he_ saw _that?_ "Now's not the time to be embarrassed, Pine Tree. Get the lube."

"U-uh-- okay-" Dipper scooted backwards on the bed a little and reached out, tugging the drawer on his bedside table open. He fished out the black container and hooked his heels over the mattress's edge to shimmy himself back over. His lower legs hung over the bed's end, toes pressed into the floor anxiously. Bill took the lube from him and put it beside himself, unbuttoning his white shorts. Dipper wondered what the demon was thinking; Bill just seemed so relaxed and ready.

 

Bill was prepared for this. 

Well, not prepared like, with lube and stuff, but he was mentally ready. For this. For sex. Sex with Pine Tree. 

Hell yeah. 

Speaking of Pine Tree, though; the kid seemed nervous as Hell. He was jumpy and flinchy, and Bill was trying to soothe him. Didn't Pine Tree like sex? Bill had seen him jerking off a few times, watching those videos that Bill had used for educational purposes, so he must like it.

Bill's fingers stilled on the hem of his shorts. "Do you... want to do this?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. Pine Tree focused on him and nodded several times after a moment of just awkwardly staring. Bill's smile twitched a little wider. Not as shy as you were a minute ago then? You still seem nervous. I guess I'll bottom. He kept his commentary to himself, instead opting to stand up- his leg creaked a bit but he had faith in it and believed it wouldn't collapse- and tug his shorts off. Bill kicked the white clothing aside, tucking his blonde hair behind his ear, before pushing Pine Tree onto his back again and dropping on top of his legs, one knee on either side of the human's nude thighs. Not sitting on his dick though. That might hurt, and Bill still had his boxers on, even though they felt kind of tight.

The demon relished in the fact that he made his human's face so red. He liked that look, and decided to voice his thoughts. "Your blush is beautiful," Bill murmured, dipping down and pressing his smiling mouth to the stammering kid's. "I love it," he whispered between kisses, savoring the coppery taste of the brunette's blood from when he'd bit him earlier, "and I love you." Pine Tree was speechless beneath him then, so Bill just rose himself up on his knees and awkwardly managed to get himself out of his underwear, tossing the last article of clothing over his shoulder. His erection sprang free, and he twitched his nose. _When did that happen?_

The kid just stared.

"Hey, don't get creepy, Pine Tree," Bill chuckled, refocusing. "You'll make me nervous." He used a little spark of magic to bring the container of lube into his hands, tossing it from one to the other. "What should I do with this?" he wondered aloud jokingly, much to the other's visible discomfort and annoyance.

"Bill, cut it out," he whined, wriggling around. Bill didn't know that lovely face could get any more pink. "Fine," the demon allowed, ceasing his vague passing motions. Bill pressed down on the pump with a finger, squirting somewhat cold, clear goop into his palm. He slicked Pine Tree's cockstand up with the substance, drawing a shaky gasp out of the brunette.

"Oh, does that feel nice?" Bill asked purely out of curiosity, but it sounded more lewd than honest. Pine Tree just grunted, wiggling a little more than before. His dick twitched in Bill's hand.

The demon grinned. "Alright, let's. Do this preparation thing." He coated his fingers in lube, gently throwing the container to the floor next to their discarded clothing. He got up on his knees again, reaching behind himself and oh-so-carefully sliding a chilly fingertip into his entrance.

_That's different._

Bill blinked several times, pushing past the tight ring of muscle until his index finger was up to the knuckle in himself. He made eye contact with his gaping Pine Tree while he did so. "It's not that bad," he said, softer than he'd planned. Then he added his middle finger and couldn't help but hiss a little at the stretch. _Scissor and thrust_ , Bill chanted to himself, sliding his fingers in and out of his body at a sluggish rhythm while occasionally scissoring and curling them. _Scissor and thrust. It feels nice later._

And it did. By the time he was adding a third finger, he was breathing out an occasional groan, no longer unbearably tight. If Bill caught Pine Tree's eye, he would smirk, letting out a low, rather suggestive mewl, and spread his slender legs wider.

Pine Tree's hands slid up his thighs after a few minutes of preparation, kneading his fingers into Bill's skin. "Bill, quit teasing me already," he ground out. That only made the demon breathlessly laugh, twisting his digits inside himself until he rubbed them against a slight lump that gave him a small spark of pleasure. "Oh," he purred, searching for that bundle of nerves again, "Nice... now, then; whatever do you mean, Pine Tree?"

"You know what I mean, Bill. Don't ruin the moment by being a prick." "Aww, fine." Bill pulled his fingers out of himself, lowering his body so he was positioned above Pine Tree's lubed-up length. He winked at the brunette as he leisurely filled his entrance with the hard member, releasing a soft sigh. _That's not so bad._

When it started to hurt, Bill focused on Pine Tree's expression, rolling his hips down against the other's. He elicited a quiet groan from the kid. "Bet that's nice," Bill nearly whispered, sliding himself up and then down again, his metal leg creaking. After a few more slow thrusts, the slight pain faded, replaced by a pleasure better than having a greasy, full meal in front of the TV. "Whoa, that's good," mused the demon, grinding into Pine Tree's pelvis greedily. He wanted it to feel nicer. There had to be more of that feeling.

Bill planted his right hand on the kid's heaving chest, picking up the pace of his pretty much bouncing hips. " Hell, that's good," he panted out. The bed and his leg both groaned from the pressure, and Pine Tree's eyes were rolling back into his skull, his fingernails digging into Bill's thighs.

_Oh, that's nice. Oh-- whoa, who's making those embarrassing noises?_ Bill hardly noticed he was drooling with his tongue practically lapping out of his mouth until he realized how loudly and obscenely he was moaning. He stopped himself from repeatedly yelling "oh, fuck" any more than he already had, screwing his eyes shut and gritting his teeth together in an attempt to quiet down. But _fuck_ was it good to feel the kid inside of him, the head of his cock sliding against that amazing sweet spot whenever he moved.

With little warning minus the ever-present building sensation coiled in his belly, something fired off in the demon's skull, making his spine arch and his scrunched up eyes water. He raked his nails down Pine Tree's torso, giving a strangled cry as the brunette underneath him keened and bucked up against him. Something spilled inside of his entrance, and his own cockstand released a small amount of creamy white fluid. Bill snapped his teeth down on his lower lip, shuddering through his orgasm with the taste of fresh blood on his tongue.

"Fuck," growled his housemate between harsh gasps of air. Bill couldn't say anything, on the other hand; he was too busy trying to catch his breath, nearly sobbing with effort and pleasure. He leaned forward on his hands, looming over Pine Tree, who was panting, but not dying like Bill was. The kid opened his mocha eyes and blinked, his countenance shifting to one of concern.

"Did it hurt that bad?" he asked, his hands riding up Bill's legs to his sides. "What are you talking- _uhnn_ \-- about," the demon managed weakly. Pine Tree pulled one arm up to wipe at Bill's face. "You're crying," he murmured.

Bill shot up, flinched when his sensitive body moved with the kid still inside of him, and got up on his knees to slide him out. "Demons don't cry," he snapped, furiously wiping the streams of tears away.

Pine Tree grinned up at him in realization. "Oh, it was good then," he said, and Bill scowled darkly, rolling off of him and onto the mattress at his side. What happened to the shy act? "Demons don't cry," he grumbled, picking up one of the pillows and smacking Pine Tree in the face with it. "Shut up and go to sleep."

"Cry baby."

"I will burn this house down." The lamp was turned off.

"Fine, fine, I'm going to sleep."

Bill grinned into the darkness. "So that's why they call you the Big Dipper?"

"Okay, I'm gonna' burn the house down now."

"Goodnight, Pine Tree."

"Goodnight, Bill."

…

Dipper woke up with Bill wrapped around him and semen on his belly and the smell of man sweat clouding up the room.

It was wonderful.

He got up, mindful of the sleeping body against him, and closed the blinds in his- their- bedroom so Bill wouldn't be disturbed by the rising sun. Dipper went to the bathroom, took a long shower, and came back into the bedroom. He got dressed there, in the same room as Bill, proud of himself for not being nervous or anxious around the demon. Then he went downstairs.

The kitchen was kind of messy, so he cleaned. Like, cleaned. With soap and mops and towels and sponges. Dipper checked the time on the microwave when he was finished; it was 7:30. An hour had passed since he'd showered. "Man, I'm up early," he mumbled. He opened the fridge for something to eat for breakfast but only found Chinese takeout and leftovers from Pizza Hut. Dipper opened and closed his mouth, flicking his tongue over the scab left on his lower lip from the night before.

It felt like a scar, manly and encouraging, and he wanted to shout out everything he knew about his lover(???) to the world. He felt proud.

"Well, better get breakfast," Dipper announced to himself, shutting the fridge and heading to the gift shop's entrance, as it was closest to his Tacoma. Bill liked Greasy's, so he'd pick up coffee and pancakes from there. Maybe by then the demon would be awake.

He slipped his sneakers on and grabbed his car keys from the little rusty nail sticking out of the wall that he hung it on, opening the door.

Frozen on the porch, in the middle of walking towards the now open door, was a woman.

She was heavily tattooed with eagles and stars, the Big Dipper on her shoulder. Her shirt was a worn-down white crop-top, and her shorts were black and cut rather high up on her legs, stained with grease and motor oil. A green flannel top was tied around her waist, and freckles dusted her rosy cheeks. She grinned sheepishly at him, brown eyes darting to the side in a cautious way. Her autumn crimson hair was past her shoulder blades now, hanging at her legs.

"Wendy?" Dipper blinked in honest surprise. "You're out of prison?"

"Heey, Dip," she greeted with a nod, "Yeah, man. Just a few days back. I heard the Shack had been closed for a while and came to, uh, check it out. Thought I was too early but..." She shrugged with a timid laugh, hands hiding in her pockets.

"Oh, right," Dipper nodded, shocked expression turning pleasant. He quickly whipped up the lie he used whenever asked about the absence of his work. "I got a lot of money from some extra jobs, so I shut down the Shack for a while. It just gets hard working all alone, you know?"

"Yeah, I get it." Wendy leaned back on her heels, smile visibly becoming less forced. "So... where ya' headed?"

"Oh, I was just going to Greasy's to pick up some breakfast..." Dipper shook his car keys around a little pointedly. He got an idea then. "You wanna' come with? We could catch up over coffee," he offered.

Wendy nodded after a moment of hesitation. "Sure," she complied. "I'll pay. And no buts!"

…

Wendy was staying with her friend from college until she had enough money to rent her own apartment. She couldn't keep a job long enough to pay for one, though, thanks to her reputation with the police. Wendy had been in and out of jail for a while since she had bought illegal drugs a few years back and kept getting in violent fights. She always seemed to hang with the wrong people. 

"So, what about you?" she asked after she was done summarizing her uneventful stay in jail. Dipper just shrugged. 

"Work is pretty good," he said, "and Mabel visited last month for our birthday. She invited Soos and Melody to come hang out with us, but Melody's pregnant-" "Oh, nice!" "-I know, right? But yeah, they couldn't make that trip. Not from Montana. I thought it was a bad idea, anyways; who drives that far just to come to a party?" He took a sip of his coffee.

"Well, if your sister is throwing a party, anyone would at least _think_ about showing up," grinned the redhead. Dipper smiled too. "You're right," he agreed. "Her parties are insane."

There was a pause where they both just drank coffee in pleasant silence. 

"So, that's it? No girlfriend or new pet or anything?" Wendy piped up and elbowed him in the side. Dipper jumped. "Well, uh..." "Yeaaah?" "I think I have a boyfriend now... He wants a dog, also, but I have no pets, no."

"Dipper!" the woman exclaimed. "Didn't know you swung that way, dude. But good for you. Who's the lucky guy?" Dipper smiled slightly, messing with his hair. He noticed he'd forgotten his hat today. "His name is Bill," he admitted. 

Wendy was leaning towards him. "Is he cute?" 

"Uhm... I guess..." 

"Is he nice?" 

"Hell no, he's demonic." 

The redhead laughed. "Where's he live?" "Oh, uh, at the Shack. He works with me. We're roommates. And boyfriends. I think." "Oh, awesome... is he there now?" "Yeah, I was actually coming here to get him something for breakfast, heh..." Wendy's quirky smile kept growing. 

"Let's go then," she decided. She turned around on her bar stool and addressed the woman brewing some coffee, and several minutes later, they were out the door with two to-go boxes of pancakes and a paper cup of coffee with extra cream and sugar.

...

Bill was dressed and pampered on the couch when they came in. He sat up when the door opened, and Dipper smiled softly in his direction. "Hey Bill," he greeted, holding the kitchen door open with his foot to let Wendy inside. "This is Wendy, my friend. Wendy, this is Bill." He got introductions out of the way quickly, not glancing to either person as he opened both pancake containers. He was hungry. 

"Hey there, Red," Dipper heard in the living room as Wendy exited the kitchen. _Ugh, what if he steals her soul or something?_ He got two plates- Wendy earlier said she wasn't hungry- and covered them in pancakes and syrup before shuffling into the living room. 

Wendy was in the arm chair and Bill was still lounging on the couch, so he lifted Bill's legs and sat down before setting the limbs on his lap. Dipper handed one plate to the demon and kept the other to himself. Bill made a happy noise at the sight of food, but didn't stop talking, as he was blabbering on to Wendy about something or another.

_This is much less awkward than I thought it would be,_ he thought pleasantly as he speared a triangle of pancake and ate it. Bill was eagerly telling a smiling Wendy about a woman who freaked out when she saw a snow-globe, choking occasionally as he was stuffing his face and talking at the same time. Dipper wanted to point out that Bill hadn't understood how they worked either, but just let him talk. It made Wendy laugh, let Dipper eat, and gave Bill attention. 

By the time Dipper was finished eating, Wendy was giving the summary of her jobless life to Bill. "Why don't you just work here?" asked the demon. "We could open the Shack again, right, Pine Tree?" The redhead paid no mind to the weird name, instead following Bill's gaze to Dipper. "Oh," he said. "That's a great idea, actually. You wanna' work here, Wendy?" The woman grinned. "Sure, dude. Sign me the fuck up." 

Dipper smiled back, then took Bill's and his dishes and brought them to the kitchen to wash later. Everything was working out.


	15. Lead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, half the chapter wasn't saved at one point, so I had to start over. Please enjoy anyways though!

Bill was practicing braids on Red's hair behind the cash register, the woman seated, the demon standing (his ass still hurt from sex two days ago- who knew it would?). It was cool to interact with meatsacks other than his own, especially when his was giving tours; every human knew something the other didn't. It made life interesting. And Red didn't seem to mind that Bill was always asking questions; she seemed to like talking almost as much as he did. 

"So what'd he say?" Bill pressed. The woman had been talking about how she'd broken up with some man that wasn't good enough for her. She'd paused to ring up a random customer buying a fake bearicorn horn, but he was gone now. 

"Oh, right." Red dusted her bangs out of her face, crossing her left leg over the other before continuing on about how the man cried and said he'd change, and when she had refused him he'd grown furious and told her that he'd always been cheating on her anyways before he stormed off. 

"What's cheating?" Bill asked, fumbling with her thick autumn hair and undoing the braid to start over. He could never really get it right. 

"Uhhh... when a person in a relationship goes behind their significant other's back and secretly dates another person." Bill's hands paused in their weaving motions. "Why would someone do that?" "I dunno', man. When people are upset with their significant other, they think cheating is some kind of revenge, sometimes. Or they just don't care and they want free sex from a stranger when their significant other isn't around." 

Bill's nose scrunched up. "How pointless. Has anyone else you know cheated before?" 

"Oh, there's this one- well-- I'm not sure if I should tell you," Red mumbled, shoulders lifting. 

"I'll find out somehow, may as well tell me everything you know," the demon pushed in a sing-song tone. He removed the braid from her hair again, combing his fingers through the fiery locks to free the tangles. 

The woman sighed. "Promise you won't say anything to Dipper?" 

A grin found its way onto Bill's face. "Promise." 

"Okay, so..." Red began. "Mabel- Dipper's twin, I hope you know her- is dating Pacifica Northwest. They're really cute together and everything. A true power-couple. But anyways- Pacifica and Mabel throw lots of parties at Pacifica's mansion, since she's rich and shit, yeah?" 

"Right," Bill said when she paused. "Keep going." 

"Okay. Well, Pacifica got pretty drunk at one of their parties, and Mabel was dealing with guests, not really paying attention... when she found out Pacifica was missing from the ball room and drunk, she kinda' flipped out." 

Bill pursed his lips. He wondered when the cheating part would come up. This Pacifica character was obviously going to by the one cheating, since Shooting Star was much too loyal- but when? With who? He wanted Red to hurry with her story. 

"So Mabel went looking around the mansion for her, and, uh," Red lowered her voice even though they were the only ones in the gift shop, "She found Pacifica and Dipper making out in one of the bedrooms." 

Bill gasped sharply. "No way," he exclaimed. His Pine Tree? What a dirty human. 

"Yeah, dude... they were both drunk, and Mabel was _furious_. Wouldn't talk to either of them for a while. Mabel told me all about it when I got a visit from her in prison. Don't tell anyone I said anything though, got it, man?" She turned around to glare at Bill, messing up his braid. 

"Yeah, I got it," he replied breezily. Pine Tree came in through the exhibit room door a moment later in his pressed suit and tie, eight-ball cane in one hand, a sea of tourists filing out behind him. He told them to buy something from the gift shop in a booming voice before coming over to the register. 

"Hey guys," he greeted plainly, shoulders now slumped, "When they leave, we'll close. Didn't expect to give so many tours when we opened back up." 

"Aww, they just love you," Bill cooed, and Red chuckled. 

"Totally, dude. Head-over-heels for the guy in a dusty tuxedo." 

"I think it's sexy," the demon countered, winking at the now vaguely blushing brunette. Well, winking as best he could with an eye patch on. Red just kept laughing. 

"Alright, you guys, get to work," Pine Tree grumbled before walking into the house portion of the Mystery Shack. Bill guessed he was going to get changed, probably so the demon would stop talking about his sharp outfit. 

It was around eight in the evening when they crowd began thinning. After all the tourists streamed out of the Shack, Pine Tree returned (in a simple shirt and gym shorts, confirming Bill's suspicions), looking a little shaken, oddly, and paid Red a hearty amount for her first day on the job. "I'll pay you every day you come in," he informed her, earning a tight hug and a loud thank you. She didn't hang around, instead claiming that her roommate was going to head to a friend's place soon, and she wanted to be there to see them off. "See you," said Bill with a half-assed wave as Red hopped onto her motorcycle. She strapped her helmet on and yelled her farewells to both him and Pine Tree as she sped down the dirt road, away from them. Bill turned to his human once she was out of sight, setting his hands on his hips. 

"Why did you change?" he demanded. "You looked great." 

Pine Tree shrugged. "The suit isn't comfortable," he replied, heading back inside. "I don't want to wear it when I don't need to." 

"That's upsetting." Bill limped after him, cane tapping quietly against the wooden floorboards. "I'd let you fuck me if you wore that suit. I'd let you bend me over the counter and fuck me till I screamed, right there." He pointed to the register with said cane, tone airy. "It's a nice suit, is my point," he finished, content with the frozen stiff man's lack of a snarky reply. Bill walked past him with a smile, going into the living room and sitting on the couch, wincing at the vague soreness of his backside. _Why does that hurt so much?_

Pine Tree came in after him a moment later and sat next to him, looking as if he hadn't been ruby-red a minute ago. He turned the television on and automatically set Netflix up to watch Sherlock. Bill's smile turned into a grin. "You know me so well," he commented, and the kid grunted before they settled into silence. 

The episode ended around an hour later with Jim grinning and Sherlock pointing a gun at a vest packed with explosives, and Pine Tree stood up. "I'm gonna' go sweep the floor in the gift shop," he announced. "Yell if you need me." "Aww, but how will you ever know what happens if you don't watch?" Bill called as the kid retreated. "We've seen all this a billion times before, man. I know what happens," came the reply. Then Bill was left alone. The demon started the next episode with a shrug, and pulled his prosthetic off, stretching out on the sofa. 

…

"I'm in the gift shop," Dipper called softly, standing in the center of the room. The king had popped up when he was upstairs changing two hours earlier and ordered him to go into the gift shop after everyone was gone. By himself. 

A raspy laugh with a German accent- Dipper recognized that accent as German now- answered him, and the king in all his childishness slithered out of thin air. The atmosphere visibly became darker. "Good, Dipper Pines," he rumbled. "Have you learned what Cipher is doing here, in Gravity Falls?" He tilted his head, white curls bouncing. Today his ski jacket looked like the universe, purple and blue and black with swirls acknowledged as different galaxies. Stars dusted his chest and sleeved arms, twinkling like glowing glitter. His pants were zebra striped and polka dotted, and, of course, his feet were bare. Dipper knew all those patterns because they were the same as the haunting demonic maw's fur, the one that had bit his head off in countless nightmares. 

Dipper shook his head. "No. I forgot to ask." He kept his voice down, in case Bill overheard and came to investigate why he was talking to a small ivory-eyed child dressed like a maniac.

"Oh," frowned the king. He hovered above the ground, staff appearing in one bony hand to twirl quickly through the air. "It's been a while since I've asked you to collect information for me, Mister Pines. Several months, in fact." His smile twitched. "I must tell you, I am not a patient king." The being strode forward, as if balanced on an invisible board hanging in the air. Dipper took a hesitant step back.

"Find out what Cipher is doing here, in this little town, or I'll ask him myself." He jabbed Dipper with his sceptre, right in the chest, and the brunette cringed. Its tip was sharp. The king rocked back on his heels, humming softly. "I'll visit you in, what, a week? Three days, more like." Then he was gone. 

Dipper sighed, rubbing where the staff had stabbed him through his shirt. He was sure there was blood, but he'd be fine. The man brushed it off and decided to actually sweep the floor, since he'd told Bill he would.

When he was finished, he went back to the living room. Bill had his cell to his ear, and Dipper heard something about pizza, so he guessed the demon was ordering take-out. While Bill did that, Dipper quickly went into the bathroom and lifted his shirt up to his armpits, staring into the stained, cloudy mirror. His suspicions were correct; there was a very small dot of blood in the center of his chest, like a needle puncture. The king had stabbed him. 

_Doesn't even hurt._ Dipper pulled his shirt back down, coming back to the couch. Bill was still on the phone, taking up the whole sofa. He lifted Bill's leg- the prosthetic had been removed while he was gone, apparently- and sat down, dropping it over his lap again. The demon's nose was wrinkled like he'd just been sprayed by a skunk, and Dipper shrugged it off as him being a dick. 

Bill was off the phone a moment later. "That one famous, super successful pizza place you always talk about doesn't deliver out here," he said. "We'll have to go pick up dinner." 

"That's fine," Dipper answered, ignoring the asshat-tone. "We can take a nighttime walk. Unless you're still sore from a few days ago." The demon was always complaining about his ass hurting, and he'd been power-bottom the only time they'd had sex. How could it hurt that badly?

"I'll live." Bill shut off the TV and sat up, beginning to strap on his fake leg. "If we're walking, we may as well go now." Dipper nodded and stood, grabbing his shoes from the kitchen and sliding them on. He also got one extra sneaker and brought it back to the couch, tossing it to Bill. While the demon tied the laces, Dipper threw a hoodie on; it was getting cooler as summer turned to autumn. Bill didn't need a hoodie on the other hand, as he was already wearing a Mystery Shack sweater that was two sizes too large with the sleeves rolled up. He probably needed pants, though, since he was _also_ wearing tight and unbearably suggestive shorts that barely went past a quarter of his thighs. Dipper didn't know how he hadn't noticed those earlier. 

Before they left the Shack, Dipper put on a strict expression. "No magic or hurting people at all, no matter what, when we're outside the house. Got it?" "Got it." "Promise me, Bill." "Yeah, yeah, I promise." And then they were outside. 

"Aren't your legs cold?" Dipper asked as they walked down the dirt road to town, attention drawn back to Bill's toned thighs despite himself. "Err- leg? Isn't your leg cold?" 

"Relax, kid," Bill replied, waving a hand dismissively. "I'm fine. Don't you _ever_ have any important questions?" Dipper grunted and shrugged before his eyes went wide. _**Find out what Cipher is doing here, in this little town, or I'll ask him myself.**_ The king's genderless, German-accented voice rang in his ears. 

"A-actually, I do have an important question. It's--" The brunette fumbled for words, but kept walking, not trying to seem nervous. "I've been wondering about it for a while, out of curiosity." His companion's eyebrows rose. "Shoot," he said. 

"Well, I was wondering... Why are you in Gravity Falls? You're not trapped here or anything, and there's royalty you could haunt and wars you could wage... Why stay here?" For some reason, Dipper expected Bill to freeze in his tracks and lash out, but the blonde never faltered. He just shrugged. 

"It's nice here," he said plainly. "It's definitely boring, but it's better than roaming around the Earth and being randomly summoned by Ouija boards and crossed pencil games." Dipper nodded. That was a cool, okay reason to stick around. "Oh, and this place is buzzing with power. One of the hot spots with all the magic and the monsters, you know?" Bill tacked on.

That was fine too, as long as Bill wasn't causing an apocalypse or anything using this "power" he mentioned. "Okay. Yeah. Cool." Why hadn't Dipper just asked like, way earlier? He could've gotten rid of the warning nightmares of animal jaws and the badgering of an odd entity ages ago. 

The duo fell into a comfortable silence as they trudged down the now paved street. They were in town at this point, a sliver of the moon doing little to illuminate the area, while man-made lampposts filled in the dark the sky had left untouched.

"There it is," Dipper said with a smile as light from the pizzeria's open windows washed over them. He loved that old pizza place, and so did everyone else in town. It was always packed with old people and fresh couples, it wasn't expensive, and it was a very big, homey, family-owned restaurant that made lots of money and gave the majority to the one small local church the village had.

"It's nice," came Bill's voice from beside him. "It looks great compared to the rest of the town." "Yeah," Dipper agreed. "Well, let's go in. C'mon." Inside the Gravity Falls House of Pizza, the pleasant smell of homemade dough was strong, and the heat of the massive stone oven warmed both men after their trek through the cold. Bill hummed, gazing around, and Dipper sucked in a deep breath through his nose, enjoying the scent of their surroundings. They hadn't even left the front door and they were already excited. 

"Well, I'm gonna' go get our food," Bill announced, placing his hands on his curved hips. Dipper grinned over at the taller male, leaning up and pressing his lips to Bill's freckled cheek. When the demon didn't shove him off or tell him people might stare like his exes often had, Dipper planted another kiss on his lips. Bill immediately returned the contact, giggling against his mouth, before drawing back. "We're having sex later," he said calmly, and then he went to the register. Dipper watched him go, ears becoming red. Bill was like his opposite, all flashy clothes and sharp words and unimaginable power. He was super causal, too. Complete opposite. Maybe that was what made them work. 

Dipper leaned against the wall nearest to the door, stuffing his hands in his pockets after his blush faded. He kept an eye on his housemate- boyfriend? Lover? What to call him....- as the line at the register for takeout quickly shortened. The pizzeria's employees never ran thin, and service was always kind and swift. Dipper wasn't surprised that everyone in line was smiling when they were given their orders. The House of Pizza was like a fancier Greasy's; famous, packed, and talented. 

Bill was next in line several minutes in. He was saying something to a woman behind him, and she was laughing. Dipper was glad the demon didn't make her scream and bolt like he had once at the mall. A man in a black hoodie entered the restaurant and shouldered his way to the register, skipping the line entirely, and cutting the woman's laughter short with annoyance. Dipper frowned too; some people were just rude. Bill didn't seem to pay him any mind though. 

Not until the man's thick arm was locked over Bill's throat from behind, the barrel of a pistol in his free hand digging into the side of the demon's skull. 

Dipper blanched, frozen, as the rest of the people indoors buzzed alive with panic. The man screamed for everyone to shut up and get on the floor minus the cashier, briefly waving his firearm about before slamming it back against Bill's head, so Dipper quietly, meekly, dropped onto his knees. The blonde on the other hand was thrashing, but not using magic and stopping this, or at least elbowing the guy in the face, and Dipper managed to be confused while terrified until he realized _he'd made Bill promise not to use power or hurt anyone no matter what they did._ Dipper choked back a scream. He was so stupid. 

"Money," the burglar growled to the trembling cashier after everyone had gotten on the floor. She squeaked before nodding and opening the cash register, taking handful after handful of green paper from inside it and shakily dumping it all on the counter. _"More!"_ he screeched, and Dipper pitied the girl. By then, Bill had stopped struggling, just slouched back and pressing into the man's chest with his back, probably to keep from crushing his throat against the arm thrown over it. 

"Th-there's no more," whispered the cashier. She was visibly trying not to cry, body racked with intense shivers. 

"Then he dies!" shouted the gun-wielder, constricting his forearm around Bill's neck. The demon hissed, but still remained still. Dipper kept a hand over his mouth, trying to keep from hyperventilating. His shoulders were shaking. What if the man pulled the trigger and Bill died? Would he remember anything that they'd been through if he just turned back into a demon? Would he laugh at Dipper for being foolish and turn evil again because his emotions were just a side-effect to having a host? Would he die with this body, gone forever, never laughing again or kicking Dipper in the side when he was throwing a tantrum? Bill had never even gotten that dog he wanted, or gone swimming, or climbed a tree or jumped off a waterfall... 

"There's really no more," the cashier sobbed. "We just donated to charity this morning... this is all there is!" Dipper hadn't realized he was crying until her voice snapped him back into reality. When had he become so emotional? He had to stop thinking about bad things. The man wouldn't actually shoot Bill. He had the money. He was going to flee and the police would show and everyone would give them a profile of what the man looked like and everything would be okay. 

"Then he _dies!_ " repeated the burglar. A gunshot fired loud enough and close enough to make Dipper's ears ring, blood splattered everywhere, and the silent crowd spiraled back into chaos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH GOD OH NO WAS THIS WHAT THE KING WAS TALKING ABOUT? HE SAID SOMEONE IMPORTANT TO DIPPER WOULD DIE OH JEEZ OH NO WE'LL JUST HAVE TO FIND OUT NEXT CHAPTER WON'T WE


	16. Storm

Sheriff Magheira wanted pizza roll-ups for dinner. 

She and her squad had spent several days trying to figure out who broke into the old "haunted" gas station and stole nearly everything it had. She guessed some teenagers had just decided to bust in again, like they had years ago, but the muddy footprints on the tiles in the gas station were too big for any kid. Magheira personally didn't care who broke in, but it was annoying knowing that someone had purposefully gone against her and the law.

Anyways- pizza roll-ups. Her favorite, and the reason she was a little chubby. The Gravity Falls House of Pizza made them, so Magheira got in her car and headed for the nice little restaurant during her break, relieved to be out of the police department even though she was still in uniform. It was late, almost midnight, but she knew the pizzeria would still be open.

Magheira read over the little sticky note she'd slapped onto her dash as she drove. Newbie Taylor- her most recent not smart, not charming crush that her best friend repeatedly warned her about (and her friend was always right)- had asked for a small meat lovers pizza. Everyone else in her squad had just requested pizza roll-ups. She'd written their orders down so she wouldn't forget before she'd left. 

The auburn-haired woman turned on the radio, listening to a techno station. Taylor had recommended it. She hummed along to the fast-paced music, fingers drumming across her steering wheel. It didn't take too long to get to the House of Pizza, about ten minutes at most. The interior was warmly lit, as always, and it brought a smile to Magheira's plump lips. The windows were open tonight, and the curtains were drawn back, so the sheriff could see inside. 

And what she saw made her heart jolt against her ribs. 

A man had a young individual- she couldn't tell their gender- by the throat, with an arm locked around their neck and steadily tightening, and a pistol to the side of their head. Magheira stopped her car right there in the road and got out, hurrying to the trunk. She popped it open- the man's rough screaming drowned the sounds out- and retrieved her shot gun. 

Magheira sprinted to a window close to the front door. She didn't want to cause him to shoot by coming inside, so she rested the shot gun's barrel carefully on the windowsill. Magheira made to shout for the man to drop his weapon, but he glanced over and saw her in the window. His bloodshot eyes went wide, and his finger tightened on the trigger of the pistol against the victim's skull-- but Magheira was faster. 

Blood sprayed as she blew his head off with her shot gun, and everyone in the restaurant that had previously been on the floor began panicking. The dead man toppled backwards with the slim individual still held tight, causing him to fall on top of the body. Magheira ran inside, dodging screaming people to pull the corpse's arm off the person. He was a guy, now, she could tell. 

"Are you okay?" she asked softly, ready to soothe him if he began to cry or break down. 

"I'm fine," he answered in a smooth tone, massaging his throat as he stood up. "Need to help my human." He began crossing the restaurant. Magheira frowned. "Sir--" "Get some other policemen to calm everyone down, sheriff. I am okay." 

Hesitantly, Magheira complied and called her squad, ordering them to bring an ambulance to the Gravity Falls House of Pizza. Her eyes never left the abnormally calm man. 

... 

Dipper stared in total shock as Bill walked up to him and helped him onto his feet. "Don't cry," said the demon over the steadily calming roar of the crowd. "I'm not hurt, so don't cry, Pine Tree."

Dipper just wrapped his shaky arms around Bill's shoulders, pulling the blonde onto his knees when his legs gave out under him while he was holding on. He buried his face in Bill's chest, breathing in his stormy scent. Then he began to sob uncontrollably. 

Bill held him, rocked them back and forth on the floor, mumbled that he didn't need to be sad. Dipper trembled intensely against him, gasping and sputtering. He regained his voice and pulled himself away from Bill to look at him. 

"Are you okay?" he whispered. Bill nodded. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah. Let's just go home. I'm not hungry anymore." They got back up and forced their way out of the front door that was swarmed with officers. Most employees and customers had already been escorted outside by policemen. Dipper didn't know how they'd gotten there, only recalling the new, young sheriff suddenly appearing and helping Bill up after he'd- or the killer, he guessed- had been shot. Dipper tried to lead them away without attracting attention, but a man in an ambulance hopped out and got in their way. 

"Aren't you the hostage?" he asked, looking surprised. Dipper was too, but he wouldn't say anything. Bill just looked relaxed, as if nothing had happened. "I am," the demon replied. "Why?" 

Dipper hoped they didn't have to fill out paperwork or be looked over for any injuries. Now that he had his emotions under control, and now that the adrenaline in his system was gone, he was pretty tired. It had to be at least one by now, and they were half-an-hour away from home. Bill was fine, and although the brunette was a little shaken, he wanted to sleep. Maybe talk more about this tomorrow morning.

They ended up doing paperwork and visiting the hospital. 

Four hours later, a police car dropped them off at the Shack. The ride and the papers and the retelling of the same story had Dipper falling onto Bill's shoulder on the way there. The driver gave Bill a business card in case he needed therapy after such a traumatizing event, and then drove off. 

In bed, Bill was drawing things on Dipper's chest with his index finger, silent. The brunette wondered what he was thinking. Bill knew "lots of things", so anything could go on in that head of his. He could be thinking about the end of the world and how he would cause it; he could be thinking of why the sun and the earth spun; he could be thinking of God and knowing who he really was, or if he _was_ at all. Dipper began no longer thinking of the demon as just an annoying friend- lover???- but as an actual all-seeing entity, a-- 

"Would a fly without wings be called a walk?" 

"Go to sleep, Bill." Dipper changed his mind. The blonde smiled at him and rolled onto his back, snuggling into the duvet. Dipper shut the bedside lamp off and copied him. They were asleep in a matter of minutes. 

But Dipper got no rest. He was sprinting through the woods of his dreamscape as fast as humanly possible, blood gushing from his ears and nostrils. There was a panting _something_ barreling through the trees behind him. He didn't know what it was, and didn't look back to check; he just knew he had to get away from it. He also knew it could easily catch him, and it was just fucking with his head, getting him weaker. 

The blood spilling from his skull got thicker and thicker the closer the thing got. Dipper could feel its breath on his back, so frigid frost painted his shirt. He heard the rumbling laugh of his nightmares dance over his nape and let out a panicked scream. Adrenaline flooded Dipper's veins and gave him a boost despite the loss of blood, but he didn't need it for long, since there was a rapidly flowing river several feet away. He leapt and dove right into it, controlled by terror and the need to get away from whatever had been on his heels. 

The current was strong and much faster than it had looked on land. Dipper struggled to force his head to the surface of the freezing water, gasping sharply before he went under again. The blood from his face clouded around him, bright against the his surroundings. He spiraled down the colorless river, slamming into rocks and cutting himself on branches that had grown too heavy to stay erect and had swooped downward into the water. Dipper sucked in as much oxygen as he could every time he broke the surface, but that wasn't often. The thing hadn't seemed to follow him in, though, so he was slightly more relaxed than he had been. Now he just had to get back onto the shore.

None of this was actually happening, Dipper knew; it wasn't reality. It was a nightmare. It wasn't real. Only the fear was. But the fear was _powerful_. It clung to Dipper's mind like a parasite, plaguing him with dread no matter what he did. Even when he scrambled onto the shore opposite of where the monster had chased him, he'd felt frightened. The brunette peeled his heavy shirt off and stumbled to the grass next to the tumbling river, collapsing onto his front.

Two massive paws thudded down in front of him. 

"No," Dipper wailed. "Leave me alone!" He refused to look up, too scared to check and see if the thing of his nightmares would be staring back. "Please, leave me alone..." 

**Pecan pie?**

The brunette silenced himself. What? "Pecan...?" 

One of the paws turned over. The white pad on its bottom was in the shape of a heart. **Pecan pie.** A slice of pie on a little plate appeared on its upturned paw. The foot moved forward, towards Dipper's face, offering it. 

"N... No..." Dipper scuttled backwards a little, sliding on his bare belly. That jab mark the king had given him stung.

**A shame.** Something about that voice sounded vaguely familiar, but Dipper's mind was too fuzzy to recall who it belonged to. The dreamscape around them was cracking at the edges. 

The paws shifted and the pecan pie disappeared. Whatever had offered him the food was turning around. **Too tired to even focus on your own nightmares? Too tired to focus when your nightmare becomes pleasant? Too tired to kill, more like.** Dipper swallowed. 

"You're... You're leaving?" he asked quietly. Two more paws- hind legs- came into view. The brunette still didn't want to look up, even though his panic was subsiding to make room for his curiosity. He didn't want to see the rest of the monster. 

**We'll be back when you're calm. It's no fun playing with a toy with dead batteries.** A thick tail thumped onto the dirt. The tip of it dissolved into smoke, peeling off in random spots like ash. It was an odd thing to see, and it only hungered Dipper's curiosity further, but he reminded himself of the beast's frozen breath and horrible laugh and tamed his mind. 

Dipper made to get further away from it, in case it changed its mind and slaughtered him- its claws were like giant fish hooks, slicing through the mud like jello, visibly capable of shredding him- but it suddenly rocketed off the earth and disappeared. Dipper warily lifted his head, glancing around, but he was alone. The only color in the mindscape. 

...

Bill woke up before Pine Tree. He wasn't snuggled against the kid this morning, but that was fine. He'd cuddle with him on the couch later. 

The demon got out of bed, hopping awkwardly to the bathroom after grabbing his cane. He couldn't bring his prosthetic with him into the shower, so what was the point of putting it on?

Bill cut his leg with Mabel's razor on accident while shaving. Red had taught him how to shave, and it made his legs feel wonderful, so he did it whenever he showered. The cut burned- not in a good way- so Bill cursed at it because he didn't know what else to do, and then he finished his legs and moved to his armpits. After washing the excess hair away, he got back out of the shower, toweling himself dry. Bill checked himself out in the mirror, giving his backside a good squeeze just to check and see if he needed to magically adjust that area, see if he had to make it less bony. The demon grinned. He didn't. 

The Shack was closed today because it was supposed to rain. One of the humans interviewing them the night before- without Bill's consent- had mentioned it was going to storm, so Bill took it as his responsibility to turn the sign to "CLOSED" on the gift shop's door when he went downstairs (after putting on his prosthetic and eye patch, of course). 

Pine Tree was laying on the couch in just his boxers, watching the news. _Lookin' good, kid._ He looked tired, but when he saw Bill, he jolted to attention. "Bill," he exclaimed. "You're- naked." "Yeah." The demon made his way over to the couch, sliding on top of his Pine Tree, their noses bumping together. He hadn't forgotten his own promise. 

"What're you doing, Bill," the kid stammered, face turning red. Bill pursed his lips. "We're having sex, remember?" he reminded. "I said we would last night, but we were interrupted." Pine Tree only shifted beneath him, mocha eyes darting away. 

There was a pause. "We don't have to, right now," Bill said. The brunette just looked away, visibly guilty. _Aww, must still be weird from yesterday._

Bill grinned. "Kid, c'mon-" He squished Pine Tree's face between his hands. "We don't have to. Here." He got up, went upstairs, and put some underwear on before returning. "Scoot over." They cuddled on the couch instead of having sex, and although Bill would be totally cool with fucking, he only got the occasional kiss. He wondered if the kid was genuinely upset about last night, but the television was on, and Scooby Doo was playing. It was distracting. 

Several hours passed without either man noticing how much time had gone by. Bill's stomach began to growl, though, so he poked a little scab on Pine Tree's chest to get his attention. "Pine Tree," he whined. "Make me a sandwich." 

"Make your own sandwich." 

"Ham and mayonnaise, please." 

"Bill, I'm not getting up." 

"Pine Treeeeee." 

The brunette sighed heavily, shoving Bill off of his chest to get up. Bill laughed as the other headed to the kitchen. When he came back, he had a bag of chips, two beers, and a sandwich. Bill took the sandwich with a thankful hum, stretching over the couch on his belly. 

"Bill, c'mon, scoot," the human mumbled, nudging Bill with his foot. Bill only grinned and took a bite of his food. He had to lick the mayonnaise off his lips afterwards. _Eh, too much mayo._

"Make me," he replied, kicking his legs. Pine Tree glared down at him, and for a moment Bill thought he was going to give up, but then the kid promptly dropped on top of him. Bill wheezed, wiggling uselessly as the heavier of them got comfortable. He heard Pine Tree crunching on chips and scowled. 

"Kid, you're crazy heavy," Bill managed to say. "It's all muscle," came the snide retort from above. The kid was laying lined up with him, head above his, legs splayed over his own. He was impossible to move in this position. 

"You better get off," Bill warned, reaching behind himself to slap his human on the side. All he got in response was a grunt. Bill huffed. "Fine, whatever." He just kept eating his sandwich. He could breathe, and he was in his desired spot, so he wasn't going to wrestle his lover in his underwear so that they could find a different awkward pose to maintain. 

"Why don't you just have a TV in your room?" Bill asked after he'd finished his sandwich. "We'd both fit on the bed way better." 

He felt Pine Tree shrug. "Never felt like buying another TV and a TV stand and moving everything around to make space for it. If I really want to watch something upstairs, I'll just use my laptop." So Bill talked him into going upstairs with the rest of the beers and using the laptop to watch pirated movies. 

That evening, they ordered a bunch of appetizers from some place Bill didn't remember the name of. The delivery man looked at them weird, probably because they were drinking beer and in their underwear, but Pine Tree paid him extra to keep him from asking questions. They ate plenty of greasy fries and onion rings as they lounged in bed, but Bill favored the mozzarella sticks. "Why do we only get five of these?" he asked, licking the marinara sauce from his fingers. Pine Tree only shrugged and burped. 

Several (inaccurate) demon documentaries later, after their hunger was taken care of, Bill became restless. He pecked and nuzzled his human's neck, picking at the hem of the kid's boxers. When he wasn't pushed away, Bill grinned and advanced, climbing onto the other's lap. He dragged his tongue over the creamy skin of Pine Tree's neck, and arms wrapped loosely around his waist. Bill nipped the flesh at his mouth, sucking until the blood beneath the throat's surface purpled and became visible. Pine Tree hummed contently at his actions. 

"Switch," Bill mumbled over the sound of the laptop, rolling onto his back and tugging at his human's wrist. Pine Tree obliged with a soft laugh, twisting to loom over Bill on his hands and knees. Their lips met in a warm embrace, molding together as the kid's hands slid up and down Bill's arms, chest, legs. The demon hardly noticed that they were both nude until Pine Tree's fingers grazed his cock. 

"Oh-- Hello," Bill blurted, following his outburst with a giggle when he saw the brunette staring at him. Those fingers wrapped around him, moving up and then down again at a leisure pace. Bill leaned back on the bed with a sigh, simply lacing his hands together behind his human's neck and relaxing. 

A few slow strokes later and Pine Tree was picking up the pace, littering Bill's exposed neck with wet kisses, easily getting him hard. The demon smiled, tugging at his love's deep brown hair, leaning his hips up in search of the other's. The kid had to get something out of this; Bill couldn't have all the fun. When their members came into contact, Pine Tree's hand paused, then gripped both lengths and pumped them at the same time. Bill purred at the difference; he could nearly feel the kid's pulse in his dick. _That's different._

"Hey, slow down," Bill breathed after several minutes of swift pulling. He was nearing his climax already, surprisingly. Staring at the kid's face as it contorted with short bursts of pleasure just did something to him. 

Pine Tree did as he was instructed, raising an eyebrow expectantly. "We fucking, or just this?" Bill asked him, massaging his human's nape. Then he was flipped onto his belly- he had no idea how- and settled into a position on his elbows and knees. Bill's fake leg creaked and his eyelids flickered as something smooth and wet drew a stripe over his entrance. "Whoa-ho," he muttered. The demon's back arched involuntarily as the warm, slick thing probed at him (a tongue? Probably a tongue). He couldn't keep his gasps and hums in by the fourth lick. 

Soon enough, Pine Tree stopped whatever wonderful thing he was doing. Bill made a disappointing noise at the loss of contact. There was movement beside the bed, but Bill couldn't really see what was going on since he'd buried his face in his folded arms. Then the bed groaned and the kid mounted him, pushing himself inside of the blonde, and Bill felt _waaaay_ better than before. _Oh, he must've been grabbing lube._

Pine Tree's thrusts were erratic and quick for a moment before he got into a rhythm. Bill purred, rocking himself back into his human, grinning against his forearms. It was sloppy and obviously unplanned sex, and Pine Tree was sort of drunk; in other words, it was great. 

Bill keened into his own dark skin when the brunette brushed against that delicious bundle of nerves inside of him. "Ooh, kid," he said lowly, voice hitching some with each snap of the other's hips. "That was nice." Pine Tree must've taken the hint, because he tilted his body and made sure to glide near Bill's prostate with every push and pull. From this angle, the kid could bury his dick inside of Bill, and whenever their bodies smacked together and made a lewd sound, it caused the demon to mewl. 

Nails dug into Bill's waist and hot breath steamed over his shoulder. The blonde moaned, trying to stifle the abnormally loud noise even though they were alone at home by biting his arm, but his human released Bill's hips and grabbed hold of his hands, pinning them beside Bill's head. He yelped when a particularly swift thrust slid him an inch forward, then melted as both of his hands were given to one of Pine Tree's to hold over his head, the grip the kid had freed moving to Bill's throbbing erection. 

"Shit, kid," the demon hissed, grinding back into the brunette harshly, searching for more friction. The hand on his cock moved in time with the thick length quite literally pounding him into the creaking bed. He was definitely going to either pass out or come in about three seconds. 

Bill ended up spilling his release into Pine Tree's tight grasp instead of falling unconscious as the larger man above him came. He shuddered through his climax, his cracked moan breaking off with a laugh. Pine Tree slumped over his back, still inside the blonde. 

"What's so funny?" the kid asked, letting go of his limp wrists. Bill just shook his head. "That was super awesome," was his answer. "I couldn't help it." And he was telling the truth; that _had_ been awesome. He could practically hear Pine Tree rolling his eyes as the human pulled out and collapsed beside him. Bill grinned, curling up beneath his little tree's arm. 

They stayed like that for a while, the noise of the documentary still playing in the background. "I thought I was going to lose you," Pine Tree murmured eventually. His arm tightened around Bill's shoulders. The demon had nothing to say, smile falling. "Just... I--" The kid was silenced by a knock at one of the doors downstairs. He sat up, so Bill did too, and looked at the clock. 

"It's like, three in the morning," Pine Tree growled, struggling out of bed and wiping himself a little with a random dirty shirt on the floor before putting it on. He followed that with some pajama bottoms, then glanced over to Bill. "You stay here," he instructed. "You're naked. And messy." 

Bill offered a grin, eager to get rid of the tension that had built up a second earlier. "Just the way you like me," he said slyly, spreading his legs a bit and gnawing at his lower lip. He would totally be okay with another round, if the kid wanted to ignore whoever was knocking. 

But Pine Tree only turned red and hurried out of the room, as if he hadn't just nailed Bill into the mattress. The demon giggled and reclined back on the bed again. They could continue after Pine Tree had gotten rid of the annoying person downstairs. 

The walls were thin, so he could easily hear the downstairs conversation when the door opened. He was prepared for something absolutely random, like "what time is it" or "can we use your phone" since it was storming and all, and Bill wouldn't be surprised if stupid tourists hadn't gotten the hint to stay home that day. But he wasn't expecting Pine Tree to give a panicked laugh and exclaim: "Stan! Ford! What are you two doing here?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just can't give it a rest can I.


	17. Addition

"Grunkle Stan," Dipper greeted warmly, inwardly terrified. "And Ford, too. What a pleasant surprise!" What if they smelled the sex on him? Or he like, smelled like demon? Demon jizz? Did that have a smell? 

Stan hugged him tightly, squeezing the air from his lungs and the thoughts from his head. "Hey, kid," the old man said before letting go. Ford smiled and shook Dipper's hand with those six fingers of his, and then his chubby, aged not-so-much-twin shouldered his way inside. 

"Sorry, Dipper," Ford laughed. "He's been dying in the car, and we couldn't stop anywhere on the way here because it was raining so hard." "Oh, right-- jeez, sorry-" Dipper quickly moved out of the way so his other Grunkle could get inside. He prayed and prayed to every deity that Bill would remain upstairs, and both men would remain in the living room.

"So, what are you guys doing here?" Dipper asked after he'd gotten them both a beer and let them settle in on the couch. Stan took a long drink of his beer. "Just checking in on the place," he said. "Ford wanted to come with, see how you were doing." The twins aimed soft smiles at each other; they'd become as close as they'd been as children over the years.

Dipper grinned along. "Well, you got here pretty early, didn't you? I can go set up the guest bedrooms if you guys want." Stan looked like he was going to ask for his own room, like he always did, and Dipper thanked god when Ford cut him off. 

"Yes, please," he said, ignoring the noise Stan made. "Thank you, Dipper, that's very kind of you." Dipper nodded and got up, trying not to seem in a hurry until he got upstairs. When he did, he booked it to his room, where Bill was still naked and ready to _not now thank you very much_. 

"Stan and Ford are here," he whisper-screamed. The demon just nodded. Dipper flailed his arms around. "What do we do, Bill?!" 

"The Pines will accept that you're gay," Bill said simply. "Just tell them I'm your boyfriend, William. I won't wear any triangles and I won't use magic. They'll have no idea I'm me." 

That might work. Might not work though. But what else could they do? Dipper sighed through his nose. He hated lying to family- even though he did it often. It made him feel terrible. "Alright," he murmured after a moment. "Get dressed in pajamas, in case one of them comes in here. Try to get some sleep, or at least act, so if they _do_ come in, it won't seem like we've been up all night. They hate when I stay up late..." He left quickly before Bill could say anything, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

Dipper went to set up the attic for Ford (he could still make the climb) and Mabel's summer room for Stan. Hamlet circled his ankles as he fixed up Mabel's place, and he hurried to clean the pig pen and refill his food and water dishes. Dipper hoped his Grunkle didn't mind the pig. 

When he was done, he came back downstairs. "Rooms are ready," he announced, and the twins rose, Ford thanking him and Stan grumbling. Dipper took their beers and threw them away; they were too tired to drink the whole things. 

"I think we'll let you go back to sleep, now, Dipper," Ford told him as they all went upstairs. "Thank you again, for doing this." Dipper smiled and told him it was no problem, and then the older men were in their rooms. 

"This is a problem," Dipper said as he paced back and forth beside the bed in his room. Bill rolled his visible eye, settled beneath the duvet. "We'll deal with it tomorrow," he groaned, rolling onto his side so he was faced away from Dipper. "Go to sleep, kid." 

The brunette heaved another sigh, but complied. He switched the bedside lamp off and crawled into bed after brushing all the empty appetizer containers onto the floor, shamelessly pressing himself against Bill's back and tangling their legs together. The storm raged on as the effects of (incredible) sex, a full stomach, a few beers, and plenty of stress wore Dipper down. 

He had no dream that night.

When Dipper woke up, it was light out. He felt his heart begin to race. _Maybe it's just six, and the sun came out early._ He sat up and grabbed his phone, checking the time. 

It was past noon. 

Dipper gave an alarmed noise and scrambled his way out of bed. He booked it downstairs after he untangled himself from the duvet, tripping his way into the kitchen. 

"--and that's when I told him that I love him," Bill was saying to Stan and Ford, all three seated around the table with mugs of coffee, the air cool and pleasant. Dipper gawked at them, eyes wide. 

Ford was the first to see him. "Good afternoon, Dipper," he greeted with a smile. "Your _special friend_ William has been telling us about your terrifying and romantic summer together. There was even a wyvern, and you didn't tell me?" Dipper kept staring. They didn't realize that was Bill? Will? 

Bill was getting up and coming over to him. "I made breakfast," he said. Then he closed Dipper's gaping mouth with one hand and turned back to the Stans. "I'm taking a shower now. Don't kill each other." The smiling demon disappeared up the stairs. 

Dipper blankly sat down in the seat Bill had left, taking a long drink of the blonde's discarded coffee. Stan laughed. "Tryn'a keep 'im a secret, kid? No good," he rumbled. "We don't judge you, if that's what you think. Mabel's got a girlfriend, you got a boyfriend, Ford has his right hand. Doesn't matter." Ford elbowed the old man in the side. 

Dipper sighed out a chuckle. "Right. Okay," he mumbled. "So, what are you guys really doing here? There's no way you just came to visit. You're retired." 

The twins looked at each other, and Ford gave in first. "We heard about the shooting at the pizza place, all the way in our town," he confessed. "We came to see if you were alright, living so close and all." 

Dipper blinked. How had they heard about the shooting already? "Uh, actually," he said. "We were there. B- Will was the hostage." 

"Oh, wow," Ford breathed, not noticing his fumble with words. "He seems fine, though. Are-- are you okay?" "We're fine." "That's a relief." "You gonna' eat your breakfast, kid?" Dipper looked up at Stan when he spoke. "Oh," he murmured. "No. You can have it." So Stan did. 

They talked about the shooting until Ford ran out of questions. Stan complimented the sheriff and said she was nothing like the old one. Their conversation wandered to how long the twins would be staying (a week) and then to how Mabel was doing in college and with work, how the Shack was doing. Dipper mentioned that Wendy was working there again, and Stan made a pleased noise. 

"Always been a good kid," he said. Dipper and Ford agreed. 

Eventually, they ran out of things to talk about, so they just loitered around the table until Bill came back. He wore high-waisted denim shorts and a somewhat frilly pale shirt tucked into his lower clothing, decorated with wallpaper-looking flowers. His normal black converse hid his remaining foot. "You guys sure are quiet," the demon commented, brushing his hair out of his face. He wasn't wearing an eye patch, white hue visible. 

"We ran out of things to say," Dipper supplied when no one else spoke. 

"That's fine. Hey, Stan," Bill said as he sauntered over to the old man's side, smacking a hand down on his shoulder. Dipper was sure Stan would gut him right there for touching him, but the retired Shack owner just raised an eyebrow. _Did Bill brainwash them?_ "You 'n Ford like a good drink, don't you?" the demon continued. "I know a nice bar we could all go to today, since it's still kinda' gloomy outside and the Shack is closed." What was Bill up to?

Stan looked thoughtful. "Ford?" he asked after a moment, looking over at his twin, who shrugged. "Why not?" the younger sibling said. "I could go for a drink Dipper didn't buy from the market for once." 

Dipper grumbled. He had good taste in beer. Everyone else didn't, that was the problem.

"Well! Let's go, then, shall we? C'mon, PppppDip, let's get you dressed." Bill seemed to have trouble saying Dipper's name. The brunette sniffed and got up, following his housemate-roommate-lover- _special friend_ up the stairs. 

"Where are we going, Bill?" Dipper asked as the demon threw random clothing at him. He was given plain khaki pants, a light blue button-up, a black jacket, and white socks. As he changed, Bill answered. "It's Will, kid. And, to that one bar with all the lights," he replied airily. "You know what I'm talking about." 

"The Whiskey Bar?" Dipper shook his head at Bill's answering smile. "Ohhhh, no, B- Will. What about Valentina? What if she gets us kicked out or something? Imagine explaining that to the Stans." It was depressing that Dipper remembered the bartender's name. 

"It'll be fine. Relax, kid." Bill popped the last button of Dipper's collar into place, suddenly right in front of him and backing him up until the backs of his knees came into contact with the bed. Dipper blinked and vaguely noted that Bill was wearing female attire, all floral shirts and waist-high shorts, as the blonde sat Dipper down on the mattress and straddled his legs. He also noted that Bill looked very nice in female attire while they made out-- until Ford knocked on the bedroom door and asked when they were leaving. 

"In a minute," Dipper answered shortly, buttoning his shorts back up as Bill laughed and pulled his shirt on. When had he gotten a boner? When had they started undressing, even? How long had they been up here? "C'mon, _Dip_ ," Bill hummed as he exited the room. "We're all waiting on you." 

Dipper glared at the back of Bill's head, and went back to fixing his shirt. His phone made a little sparkly noise, like a fairy waving a wand, and he knew Mabel had texted him. 

'How goes Hamlet?' she asked. He was surprised she didn't ask him about the shooting, if the Stans had heard about it. 

'He tasted great this morning,' Dipper replied. 

'Do NOT eat my pig.' 

'I'm just kidding, Mabes. Hey... Aren't u staying at Pacifica's place for a long time?' She'd told him while she was at the party during her last visit that Pacifica had gotten her some kind of house to stay in, all paid for. He had an idea. 

'Ya. Why' 

'Why don't u just take hamlet with you?? Come visit, take him back when u leave.' 

'I have a tight schedule...' 

'Work can wait a few days. The Stans r here' 

'I CAN COME OVER!! I'll be there tomorrow!' 

Dipper smiled and asked Siri for the times a certain store Bill enjoyed was open. After finding out it was open all day today, he went to the Amazon app store, and started buying. _This might actually work._

...

Bill toyed with his seat belt in the back of Pine Tree's truck, seated beside Ford. One hand of Stan's was clutching a plastic bag of ice to his jaw as he sat sullenly in the passenger seat, where he'd been slugged by security after he'd gotten into a heated argument with Valentina (who Bill had predicted would be there). Everyone was mad at him for suggesting they go to The Whiskey Bar, especially Pine Tree, but he had gotten plenty of entertainment from the whole fiasco, so he didn't really mind. 

Pine Tree came up beside Bill's window and motioned for him to roll it down. The kid had been talking to the manager of the bar. "How do I know you won't punch me?" Bill asked through the glass, and the brunette just gave him a look. Bill opened the window with a smile. 

Pine Tree crossed his arms over the lip of the window. "We are not allowed back in there," he told everyone in the car. "But we can walk around, if you guys want. Will and I have been here before, and there are better bars we can stop at within walking distance." 

"Not so sure about all that 'walking' hullabaloo you're talkin' about, Dipper," Stan rumbled. "I'm an old fart, can't be doin' that." "I agree with your Grunkle, Dip," Bill chimed in, lifting his prosthetic leg for emphasis. "I didn't bring my cane with me. I thought we'd be sitting down." _My ass still hurts from last night, too._

Dipper's brows furrowed. _It's not too hard to think of him as 'Dipper'._ "We could find somewhere for you two to relax, and Ford and I could walk around," he suggested. 

"I'm fine with that." Bill grinned over at Stan. Maybe he could learn some more about the old bastard. 

The others all grumbled the way men do, signaling their agreement. Like animals. Dipper was the only human he could truly stand forever without comparing him to an animal, it seemed; him and Wander, maybe. Bill would hang out with her if he could.

Dipper brought Bill and Stan to an outdoor cafe. They sat at a small table together as the kid and Ford went to explore, ordering too many sweet things and plenty of coffee and hot chocolate. Bill nearly regretted what he was wearing as he shivered between sips of the hot drink; it wasn't summer anymore. The trees around the Shack had fiery leaves, red, yellow, orange, and the woodland creatures were getting noticeably thicker coats. 

"So, you're not the adventurous type, Stan?" Bill asked the old man across from him even though he knew the answer. Stan lowered his homemade ice pack. "I was," he said. "Now I'm too fat 'n old to keep up with all that running and zombie battling." "Zombie battling?" "Oh, yeah. Beat 'em up or sing so bad they don't want to be undead anymore. Just plain dead."

Bill grinned, toying with the little spoon in his mug of brown drink. "Interesting," he mused. Stan couldn't sing; worthless information, but nice to know.

They chatted idly, neither tense because one didn't recognize the other and said other just didn't care, ate bagels with too much bacon and butter and cream cheese, and occasionally choked on bread when they bounced dirty jokes back and forth from laughing too hard. Forty minutes rolled by like ten. How had Stan become so easy to get along with? "Well, Ford and Dipper are supposed to be back by now," Stan grunted after they calmed themselves at the end of Bill's made-up funny story about a hunting trip gone wrong. "Do you see them?" 

Both looked around, leaning over the edges of their chair to peer further down the streets. "Nope," Bill answered, lips pursed. Usually, the two nerds were the ones that kept a strict schedule. Where could they have gone? 

"Don't look so worried, Will." Bill glanced over at Stan, who was smiling a tired old-man smile that could only fit the wrinkliest of faces. One that would melt Bill's heart if he had one. Maybe he wasn't quite an animal- or if he was, he was a super fat, wrinkly bear. "They'll turn up. We'll wait a while longer. They probably found a haunted pawn shop and got distracted." Bill grinned. Yeah, that made sense. They'd just wait a while longer. 

Ford and Dipper never showed up.

The two got into Dipper's truck in a panic, calling both of the missing men's cells repeatedly. No answer. No answer. No answer. 

"They're dead!" Bill wailed. Why was he freaking out so horribly? Stan grunted at him, called the others again, voicemail, again, voicemail. They were both paranoid beings. It was a bad idea to put them together, and an even worse idea to put two investigators together and send them into the city for a few hours. What were they thinking? Dipper probably found a haunted strip club or something and went to free it of its hooker ghosts. 

A chime from Bill's mobile. 

The demon snatched up his phone, hurrying to see what had been said. 'Where are you guys?' said a stupid fucking text from Dipper Pines. Bill held back the urge to crush his phone in his fist and instead replied. 

'In the car. We were calling!! where are YOU??' 

Stan was leaning over to read the exchange, sighing in relief at Bill's shoulder. 

'At the cafe,' Dipper sent. 'There was no service. Sorry' 

'You ass.' 

'I said I was sorry!' 

Bill huffed and slapped his phone screen-down against his thigh. He was mad at the kid now that he knew he was alive. 

Another minute, another chime. 

'Come back to the cafe,' said Dipper. 'I have something for you' 

"Dip wants us to go back," Bill told Stan grumpily. The old man just blinked owlish eyes at him before climbing out of the truck. Bill followed suit, and they both trotted back to the café, an awkward-looking, pissed-off, crippled pair of wrinkles and feminine clothing. 

The café wasn't far. Stan got there first- two legs are better than one, no matter how frail and old- and turned the corner faster than Bill did. He immediately backed up when he saw whatever Dipper and Ford had in store for them. Now a little less mad that they'd been abandoned and more curious, Bill hopped the last few steps round the last corner to the coffee shop on his good foot to speed himself up- 

Annnd was instantly knocked over by something attacking his leg. 

Momentarily panicked and wondering _was this all some horrible, horrible trick to get me to trust Dipper so they could capture and kill me_ caused Bill to hardly process being licked on the lips multiple times by a slick, tiny tongue. 

Then, his first kind of muffled exclamation was, "Damn, Dipper, you're excited to see me-" But Dipper didn't have little claws and creamy fur and _oooooooh!_

"Puppy!" Bill screeched, sitting up and sending the gorgeous borzoi puppy toppling off his chest. It was exactly the one he'd picked out at the pet store months and months ago, and it was as perfect as ever. Bill crushed it in a hug, giggling as it barked and squirmed, lapping at his drooly face. 

Seeing Dipper's expression made his own grin widen till it matched the kid's. Why had he ever doubted them? They were the good guys, they wouldn't do that. They got him a puppy! 

He was hanging around Dipper too often. Getting too paranoid, becoming a dweeb. 

"Alright, Will," Dipper said after Bill rolled around on the sidewalk with the dog for a while, "time to go home. I ordered everything for the dog on Amazon already, it'll be at the Shack in a few days." 

Bill stared up at his human, nameless dog in arms. _I will name you something amazing,_ he promised the puppy inwardly as he got up. "I love you," he told Dipper, and the brunette's face lit up. Had he ever just said that before? Bill wasn't sure. 

Dipper scratched the dog behind the floppy ear and kissed the demon fully on the lips. The passersby who had crowded upon Bill's fall all either politely looked away or 'aww'ed. Bill grinned into the embrace until his human pulled back. "I love you too," Dipper said, and it was a wonderful thing to hear, better than the kid's moans, even. 

But then Ford cleared his throat, and Bill remembered why he disliked that twin. He always had to be the dramatic center of attention, and everyone thought Bill was the attention whore. "Let's get back to the Shack, gang," Ford said. When had he started calling the Shack 'the Shack'? 

Everyone but Bill expressed agreement. Dipper said his feet hurt, Ford liked being indoors (obviously) and Stan was an old guy. Of course he wanted to be at the Shack. Bill, on the other hand, wanted to start walking his dog immediately, but even lowering it to the ground made its paws peddle wildly, and he knew it would escape the second he put it down. If he couldn't play with it, he guessed he could name it. What to name it, though, what to name it... 

It? No, that wouldn't do. Bill lifted one of the pup's hind legs. _She_ barked at that. The demon smiled and hugged her tighter against his chest as he sank into the back seat of the truck next to Ford. The rumbling of the engine felt nice in his foot; the prosthetic just rattled, on the other hand. 

Bill's dog barked again. He squeezed her a little and jostled her on his knee like an infant till she calmed. Who was kind of loud but adorable? Shooting Star was, but her name was taken. Who else? He'd met plenty of loud deities, but none were adorable as well. 

"Oh!" exclaimed the blonde. The others all jumped and looked at him, Dipper staring through the rear-view mirror, expectantly.

Bill laughed. "I know what to name her, is all, sorry." And he kept it a secret from them even though they repeatedly asked what it was with a giddy expression glued to his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you mean I made you wait forever for nothing


	18. Black Plague

"A shooting star, a broken pair of spectacles." 

Long, pale fingers danced over the carvings dug into the surface of the wooden box. 

"A little pine tree, a bag of ice." 

The fingers stroked each mark as if they were children, smoothing them lovingly. 

"An alpaca, a question mark." 

A greenish, slobbery tongue darted out, wetting chapped, blue lips. 

"A broken heart, a looking star, the mark of a cult..." Fingertips dug into the pacman-looking design especially hard. 

"And a six-fingered hand," finished the voice of many and none. Small hands popped the wooden box open. Within rested many puppets, each with their strings cut. Whoever had last kept the box hadn't needed the puppets, obviously, resulting in their disposal. 

It didn't need them either, of course. But puppets were fun to play with; toys you can really move however you want them to, speak how you want them to, dance in any direction you want them to. "They make humans feel strong," it observed as it picked out which puppet it wanted.

It tossed the doll onto the table and gathered a roll of string. The puppet was outdated, so it set to remaking it, correcting stitching, lengthening limbs, changing clothes, painting small marks that hadn't been there before. A hat to top it all off, make it look silly, more like itself. It smiled at the puppet and gave it new strings, strong ones to make the doll dance effectively. Its rotten teeth bared contently. 

"Perfect."

. . .

Dipper was feeling super sick, so Bill told him the dog's name first, cracking a week after he'd gotten her. "It's Ammit," he told his human softly, crouched over the man who was tossing and turning in bed- and had been for days. "Ammit, after the Egyptian demoness." 

Dipper smiled at that. "A perfect name," he said in the hoarse, sick voice Bill had gotten used to but never enjoyed. "For a perfect dog, with a perfect owner." Bill rolled his eyes and squeezed his human's sticky hand. 

"You talk like you're dying," he joked, but his tone was worried. Dipper had started feeling bad the second they'd gotten home that one day a week ago, and had only gotten worse since then. He hardly ever got out of bed now except for when he had to use the bathroom and when he wanted to get a book off the shelves on the other side of the room. He didn't eat; plates upon plates of old food were stacked on his bedside table. He only took water, and that was hardly a sip a day when he did; even Bill knew that wasn't healthy. The kid's skin was pale and he seemed sort of papery and his hair was greasy, but Bill didn't mind. 

Dipper didn't answer, so Bill kissed him on the brow and left. Mabel said that sick people like gentle touches. 

"Her name is Ammit," Bill announced in the kitchen. The Stans looked up from their card game in confusion, but his human's sister immediately caught on. 

"Ammit!" the girl squealed, swinging both Hamlet and Ammit around in her arms after she'd managed to grab them. "It's about time! What a great name!" "Oh, the puppy," realized Ford, and he smiled. "How original. What gave you the idea to name her Ammit?" 

_Well, since you asked so kindly, it's because I'm an ancient Egyptian monster that caused the apocalypse mere days after you returned from the horrible dimension I trapped you in. Also, I'm dating this kid I used to torture, who's also your family member, and he was twelve when we first met._ "I'm into Egyptian mythology," answered Bill chipperly. "Ammit was a demon that really stood out to me. She looks kind of like a dog, too, don't you think?" He stole the puppy away from Mabel. Mabel was okay, understanding and willing to listen to any of Bill's 'white girl complaints', but she was clingy and loud and energetic and Bill had no idea how Dipper could handle both Bill and his twin sister at the same time. He was sort of looking forward to having her leave, but he'd much rather kick the Stans out first. Once again; they were a couple-of-days type of group. Bill wouldn't live with any of them. 

"What a neat idea," Ford said to his brother as he slapped a card onto the kitchen table, punctuating his 'neat' with the card's sound. Stan groaned and set all of his deck down, visibly defeated. Bill smiled at them all and brought Ammit outside. 

It was definitely getting colder, Bill noticed as he let his dog do her business. She didn't need a leash, it seemed, with all the creepy things in the woods to keep her away from the treeline. Ammit looked into the woods and barked, but she went quiet a second later. A monster probably spooked her. She was a smart dog, Bill could already tell, but not smart like people were; that was why he really liked the fact that she was a dog. Dogs were intelligent, but not like humans- Bill held power over her because she couldn't outsmart him, even in his undead vessel without much magic. It made him feel strong again, in a way. Strong enough that he made a decision to screw Dipper like a true demon once the kid was feeling all better. 

As satisfied as Bill now was, Ammit returned to the porch. He congratulated her on going to the bathroom outside and took her back in, welcoming the warmth of the oven when it greeted him. The smell of something roasting, too, made his mouth water and his belly rumble.

"Who are you cooking?" he asked Mabel when he saw her checking inside the oven, bright pink oven mitts over her hands. She grinned over at him. "Oh, just the grocery store cashier. He gave me a weird look." One thing Bill enjoyed about her: her sense of humor. "Delicious," he commented. The Stans were now gone, probably checking on Dipper or arguing in the living room.

One more day, and Bill could use magic to strengthen Dipper's immune system instead of waiting around. One more day, and Bill could lay however he wanted with Dipper without being told that someone might walk in on them. One more day, and everyone would leave, and all would be quiet. 

Who knew Bill would come to enjoy silence so much?

. . . 

Dipper was tired but he couldn't sleep. His nerves were fried, his vision was blurred, he was worried he'd told Bill something in Latin instead of English, and his fucking head was splitting with pain. He wanted to sleep, he was so exhausted, but his dreams were still gushing with nightmares of that beast. In every dream, it took a different form; sometimes it was a shadow in the shape of a giant wolf, sometimes it was the dark-furred thing that had chased Dipper into the river(he still didn't look at its face), or sometimes it was one of his family members, grunkles and sisters with bright white eyes. Each time was horrifying, and each time the thing was trying to persuade him to do something he didn't recall. Dreams were stupid that way; you always forgot the parts you wanted to remember. 

Dipper rolled onto his side, facing away from the cracked open door with heavy eyelids. Just ten minutes of sleep, that's all he wanted. Dreams couldn't form in just ten minutes, the brain needs time to make them. 

He was greeted by a small room with no doors or windows, the walls, floor, ceiling all rusted metal. At the other end of the room Dipper wasn't standing in, there was a wooden desk, with a wooden box on top. 

He didn't know why, but he stayed away from it. 

'Come now, eat it,' said the nightmare voice he'd become familiar with. 'Eat the core of the earth, I've cooled it down for you, it's not so bad.' A massive shadow formed on the far wall, replacing Dipper's own, grinning toothily and twitching its ears. 'I've cooled it down for you, it's not so bad, eat it, eat it...' 

"What are you talking about?" Dipper asked reluctantly. He didn't want to get sucked into some crazy thing by talking to it, but he couldn't do anything else. He'd lost power in his dreams long ago. 

'You _KNOW_ what I'm talking about!' It lunged for Dipper and he shouted, but it just shot across the floor, blasted across underneath his feet, and landed on the wall behind him. Two-dimensional, couldn't touch him, just a shadow, he had to remember.

"N-No," he stammered. "I don't. Please." What was he pleading for? 

'The core.' 

Another voice joined before Dipper could reply. It was dark, deep, scratchy but not old. It sounded like smoke. "Go open it, is what they mean," it said. "Are you deaf?" Flaming hands burst from the floor around Dipper and gestured to the wooden box on the other end of the room.

"What? Why?" Dipper tried to move away from the hands, but they coiled around him like a circular cage, arms linked, hands holding together. 

"Why not, is my motto," said the gruff voice. Then the ring of fire moved forward, and Dipper was forced to walk along with it, or he'd burn himself. It didn't stop making him walk until he was face-to-face with the wooden box. Carved into its lid was Bill's wheel... and billions of others surrounding it, ones Dipper didn't recognize. His demon's was dead in the center, and in the middle of that was a small, small, _small_ blue shard of diamond taking the place of Bill's triangular self. 

"What is this...?" Dipper asked, touching the carvings gently, as if the box would suck him up or dissolve into dust if he pressed too hard. His fear subsided to make room for curiosity as he touched his tiny pine tree symbol. 

"Destiny," the fiery tone replied, and Dipper, in a trance, opened the box.

Inside was a small, anti-climatic puppet sitting in a pool of steaming black goo. Dipper blinked and picked it up, staining his hands black. It looked like the creepy doll from that old Laika movie, Coraline, right down to the button eyes- but it wasn't a girl in frog boots. Instead, it looked exactly like Dipper. 

"It's me," he told the fire, but it was the shadow who answered. 'Yes,' it agreed, maw twisted with a smile. 'It is you. Or, it will be.' 

"What?" Dipper frowned up at the menacing shadow. "Will be?" 

He woke up with a pounding migraine in the dark, alone in his bed. 

. . .

"Will?" 

Bill looked up from the magazine in his hands. He'd read the same article twice now, having been side-tracked by Ammit's playful attitude and bringing Wendy by for a while so he could pay her with what was in the cash register while she caught up with Dipper's family. She was always excited, even at two in the morning. The blonde blinked up at Dipper, who was downstairs for some reason, looking frazzled and smelling worse than usual. 

"Everyone's asleep, kid," he murmured, setting the magazine aside and nudging Ammit off his lap. He patted the space beside him on the couch welcomingly even though he thought Dipper should be in bed. "What are you doing down here?" 

"I couldn't sleep," Bill's human told him as he collapsed onto the couch. He rested his head on Bill's thighs, replacing the demon's pet. 

"Too sick?" asked Bill, smiling at the contact and carding his fingers through Dipper's greasy hair. "If you're not tired anymore, you should shower," he tacked on.

The kid turned and buried his face in Bill's kinda'-chubby belly. "I don't want to shower," he groaned. 

"A bath?" suggested Bill. "I can scrub your back and feet, my lazy prince." 

"You're one to talk." Dipper showed his face again, charming smile back on. Bill's innards stirred at the expression. "A bath sounds great." 

"Up, then," Bill said, and they went back upstairs and got in the tub together, cramped but warm and content. Bill scrubbed his human's back, as promised, and massaged his shoulders too- the internet taught him plenty- until the brunette was relaxed as a puddle of goop. He cleaned all the grime and sweat from Dipper's hair, stroking his scalp while the man dozed with his back against Bill's chest. No matter how hard Bill cleaned him, though, the kid still smelled like something... bad.

Brushing the stench aside as sickness even though he'd smelled it on Dipper many times before, Bill woke him up. "Done," he told his human, kissing his wet hair. "All clean." 

"Thank you, Bill," Dipper murmured, and they got up and went to bed. 

The next morning, Mabel's friends, Rixor and Sage, came over to bid Mabel farewell before she and the older twins went back home. 

"I think we should go for a walk in the woods," suggested Sage as they all sat in the kitchen, eating gross-ass Stancakes. Bill could hardly choke the food down and he ate everything. 

Rixor agreed. "A little exercise before you get in your car all day sounds nice," she said to Mabel. The brunette agreed. "Just let me get my sweater," she said, jumping off the counter and going to the staircase. 

Rixor and Sage both turned on Bill the second she was gone. The Stans laughed quietly at that. "So," Rixor smiled. "What was your name again?" 

"Will," Bill answered automatically. 

"Will... So, you really are dating Dipper? We thought Mabel was joking." Her fingers slipped through her auburn hair. "No one as silly as Dipper could date someone like you, I said," tacked on Sage. 

Bill grinned at them both. "Yep, we're dating," he admitted. "You'd be able to tell, too, if he weren't so sick. We'd be making you throw up with all our cuddling." The pair laughed, and then Mabel was back. Bill couldn't tell what colors she had on her sweater, he could only ever see yellow and shades and whites, but she looked nice in it anyway. There was a flower with yellow petals and a smiling face on it, but the smile seemed a little twisted. Underneath the picture, it said, "GOLLY!" 

"Nice sweater," Bill commented. Mabel grinned as she put her shoes on. "It's from a video game I love," she said. Bill had no idea what those were, so he just nodded. The girls left for the forest after adorning their mittens and scarves, and Bill went upstairs to check on Dipper while the Stans finished eating and began packing their things. 

"Kid," Bill whispered into the dark bedroom. The shades were always shut tight. "You awake?" No one answered. He was just about to turn the light on and wake his Dipper up for some hugs when he heard sobbing in the bathroom. Bill turned the light on and the bed was empty. 

Bill jogged over to the bathroom. The door was locked. "Kid," he called immediately. "Let me in." Why did it sound like he was crying really violently? 

Eventually, the door creaked open. Dipper was on his hands and knees, looking weak and exhausted, eyes puffy and red. The floor and his face was spotted with black. "Pine Tree? What happened?" "Just a little sick, Bill." 

The brunette crawled across the floor to the toilet and tried to flush it. Bill watched as it clogged and overflowed, and black-tinted water spilled all over the tiles, splashing across Dipper's knees and arms. Dipper gagged and Bill frowned.

"What have you been eating?" This was vomit, clearly. Dipper had been throwing up, which explained the noises he made. But humans didn't regurgitate black slop. 

"Nothing. Just drinking w _whah--_ " The kid broke off and heaved into the overflowing toilet, shoulders trembling as his vomit just traveled down the white bowl's side and covered his knees even more. Bill took his socks off and walked through the thin layer of sludge coating the floor to rub his human on the back. 

"Come lay down with me," Bill ordered, bringing the other into their room and then leaving to retrieve the bucket from underneath the sink in the kitchen. Stan gave him a look while he took it out. "Dipper is throwing up," Bill told him. "Don't go into the bathroom upstairs." The demon jogged up the steps, not waiting for a reply, and closed the bathroom door tightly before going back into Dipper's room. He would clean in there later. 

"If you get sick, use this." He put the bucket on the floor on Dipper's side of the bed while the shriveled-up man laid on his arm. Bill crawled into bed beside him, snuggling against the human's back and wrapping his arms around the shivering torso in front of him. Dipper felt like he'd lost weight. Some of the muscle Bill used to be able to trace and outline with his fingers felt less prominent. 

They dozed together like that for a while. Sick days seemed to be sleepy days. 

That is, until Sage burst inside the back door screaming with Mabel unconscious in her arms, eyes wild and skin and clothes covered in blood.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks a ton for reading! If you wanna' see some doodles done by yours truly based off of this work, check me out on tumblr! (I have no idea how to post links though ha ha so you'll just have to find "misterdellis" somewhere out there.)


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